


Harder and Harder to Breathe

by IcyPanther



Series: My Favorite Toy [3]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Emotional Hurt, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Manipulation, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Gen, Hunk & Lance (Voltron) Friendship, Hurt/Comfort, Langst, Manipulative Lotor (Voltron), Mind Games, Non-Consensual Touching, Pining Lance (Voltron), Recovery, Team as Family, towards Allura, victim mindset
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-03
Updated: 2019-01-17
Packaged: 2019-10-03 12:54:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 29,526
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17284442
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IcyPanther/pseuds/IcyPanther
Summary: Lotor has invited the Paladins of Voltron to a gala to celebrate the Galra Empire joining the Coalition where they will be center stage to the some of the most powerful people in the universe. And even though the spotlight is shining directly on them Lotor is not done with his games. And Lance, for the sake of the universe, has no choice but to play along.Lance’s earlier conviction to give a compliment withered as Lotor’s smirk, visible only to him, widened into something crueler.“Look at that,” Lotor said softly, fingers ghosting across Lance’s skin as he trailed them away from the necklace. “It absolutely is a perfect fit.”





	1. One

**Author's Note:**

> **Timeline notes:** Third and final part of the _My Favorite Toy_ that takes place within season five and could be into season six at this point. You will need to read the previous two stories first before reading this one.  
>  **Warning notes:** Technically none, although more not welcome insinuations and touches from Lotor (as always in this series xd)  
>  **Other notes:** I will preface that this fic, while gen, does have some elements of what we see of a one-sided Allurance (via Lance) and some insinuations of Lotura as well that are part of the plot. But the fic as a whole is geared towards platonic relationships.

Lance stared, eyes refusing to comprehend what he was seeing.

The invitation transmission blinked back cheerily at him with Allura’s signature of acceptance at the bottom.

This…

This couldn’t be happening.

Not so soon.

It had barely been a week since he’d been sick, since he’d returned from Lotor’s base and…

And now he had to go back?

His stomach lurched.

He couldn’t.

He couldn’t not.

And he couldn’t say why.

 _“I_ win,” echoed in his mind followed by the brush of hands and a hellfire kiss on his cheek.

He shuddered.

“—a generous opportunity,” he heard Allura say, her voice laced with excitement that he should be feeling as she addressed the assembled Paladins. “All of the Coalition dignitaries as well as potential allies will—”

A gala.

Lotor was holding a gala, a party, to celebrate both his ascension to Emperor and the Galra Empire joining the Voltron Coalition. It would be as Allura said, a huge opportunity to network and gain allies in the fight against the now technically rebel factions of the Galra as well as show firsthand the cooperation between the former opposing enemies.

Lance understood that. He knew how important something like this was.

But…

But Lotor would be there.

And he…

He couldn’t see the Galran pri— emperor.

He never wanted to see him again.

If he did then the mask he was trying desperately to hold in place would crack fully and then…

Then he wouldn’t be a Paladin anymore.

Hunk already suspected something was off and Lance knew he hadn’t helped matters with his pathetic display when Hunk had arrived to pick him up. He’d tried asking, multiple times, what was wrong, what had happened, and Lance…

Lance had lied to Hunk.

He’d never lied to Hunk before. Not like this.

He’d still been sick, he said. He just hadn’t been feeling well and he’d just wanted to get home. Lotor… Lotor had cared for him, the words thick in his throat but worse than that they were true, he was healed now.

Everything was fine.

Nothing had happened.

Hunk had not looked convinced.

He’d tried to push but Lance had asked, begged, him to let it go.

It was over, it was done and he was fine, all better, never better.

Hunk had let it drop then, moreso out of the fact that Lance had no doubt looked about to cry and as nosy as Hunk could be he knew when not to push, but Lance knew his best friend hadn’t forgotten.

He was both terrified and relieved and the feelings together made him feel sick.

He knew Hunk wouldn’t judge, knew Hunk would believe him if he told him what Lotor had done (and he still wondered what exactly _had_ Lotor done?).

He also knew Hunk would insist on telling Allura and Shiro and, his face heated, he could not afford that. Even if they believed him (which he didn’t think at this point was possible as Allura _loved_ Lotor and Shiro was firmly at his side and all of Lotor’s actions and honeyed words and charm and the lack of actual evidence of anything happening meant it was his word against Lotor’s and he’d _never_ liked Lotor and he knew Lotor would spin it as he had everything else) they would question how he had allowed it to happen, why he hadn’t said anything before, if… if he was worthy of being a Paladin.

Lance couldn’t lose being a Paladin. He couldn’t.

He was the weakest one, he knew. He knew he still didn’t measure up as a Red Paladin should. But… but he still wanted to be one. He wanted to help people, to protect the universe.

Even if…

Even if he couldn’t even protect himself.

He could feel eyes on him then and a quick flick of his own showed it was Hunk, whose gaze was narrowed but concerned.

It was the look he had when trying to solve a puzzle and Lance felt his stomach clench.

No.

Nothing had happened.

He was fine.

And no one could ever find out.

Lance tried to school his face into some sort of smile, nodding his head as Allura spoke even though he had no idea what she was saying.

He was fine.

Everything was going to be fine.

xxx

Everything was not fine.

It was very, very far from it.

Lance had known he was going to have to go to the gala, no way around it because him, skip a party? Never. He’d resolved to avoid Lotor at all costs, to mingle with his fellow Paladins and familiar allies and maybe strike up a conversation or two if it felt right with other dignitaries because once upon a time he’d thought he’d been good at that.

Now…

Now he wasn’t sure about anything.

But appearances were important and despite the fact the very thought of being on the same _planet_ as Lotor made him feel nauseated he would do it because that was what was expected of a Paladin and he was a Paladin, no matter what Lotor said.

But…

But that had been before the events of fifteen minutes ago.

When Allura announced that Lotor was coming _to the castle_ and had summoned them to the bridge after they were dressed.

_Dios._

It was already bad enough that they weren’t attending the event in their Paladin armor which meant no bayards and no protection and, Lance’s neck prickled at the thought of needing protection at such an event. Armor, Allura had said, was no place for a peaceful gathering. No, they were going to wear formal wear.

That Lotor provided.

It made Lance’s skin crawl.

It had been special ordered, custom made, Allura had announced the other day, gently opening up the packages with clear love and appreciation in her voice. It was a cross between Altean and Galran to represent the union of their two sides and modeled off of their Paladin armor. For the males it was a sleeveless white tunic with sharp edged panels on the shoulders in their chosen colors and a tight colored undershirt that ran to their wrists, form-fitting pants that tucked into white calf-high boots edged with color that were closer in Galran design and a belt and cape that hung from little Voltron symbols on his shoulders down his back also in their Paladin matching color. Allura and Pidge’s capes were floor-length and their tunics were belted dresses with a white panel like Allura’s old favored gown hanging down the front and Paladin colors beneath.

Lance’s was red.

He still wasn’t sure if it was a joke on Lotor’s part, the harsh mockery of _“You think yourself the Red Paladin?”_ a painful resonation that followed him daily, as he had always worn blue despite being the Red Paladin and this seemed…

Seemed wrong.

Allura’s outfit was done in blues, not pinks, so he tried to tell himself that it was merely so they matched their Lions and titles, not a personal jab upon him.

It still didn’t make him feel better.

The outfit on its own wasn’t bad, was actually visually appealing, but knowing it was from Lotor, that he had personally been a part of their design, left him unsettled. He supposed he should be grateful it was as covering as it was, the only visible skin their hands, necks down to the dip of their collarbones and faces.

As he dressed he swore he could feel purple hands ghosting across his skin, amused chuckles as he flinched at even his own touch.

It was a far cry from the hospital gown Lotor had once dressed him in but as Lance left for the bridge he felt just as exposed.

He was the first to arrive outside of Allura and Lance’s steps faltered at the entryway because _where was Lotor?_ , but Allura had already spotted him and called him over from where she was standing at the main console.

Despite the situation, despite knowing Lotor could literally pop up at any moment, Lance couldn’t help but stare at Allura as his feet for a different reason tripped in her direction.

She looked _beautiful._

Not that Allura wasn’t always beautiful, but tonight…

Her hair had been pinned up save for an elegant curl coming down the front on each side and her ears sparkled with blue and white crystals, a matching one on her headpiece. But it was her smile, the way she tilted her head that set her eyes sparkling even more than the jewels that made his breath catch and his heart stutter.

“Allura, you,” he swallowed, hoping she couldn’t hear his racing heart as he approached. “You—”

“Look absolutely stunning,” Lotor cut in, voice as smooth as silk, swooping to stand next to Lance out of nowhere. “A true vision, Princess.”

And just like that Lance could feel the heat replaced with cold dread.

Lotor.

Here.

Right next to him.

“Oh,” Allura ducked her head although it did not hide her blush.

Lance’s stomach clenched.

That should have been _him._

But that quick burst of envy disappeared as soon as it came as a purple hand descended on his shoulder and _squeezed_ and he felt Lotor, not in armor either but a black and purple tunic and robe ensemble with a simple but powerful looking black crown upon his head, press against his back.

No.

He tried to sidestep but Lotor’s grip was firm and trying to throw him off would only raise eyebrows.

“Isn’t she beautiful, _Lance?”_ Lotor drawled, bending his head down and breath ghosting over Lance’s ear.

He shuddered and was grateful Allura was looking down and didn’t see it, managing a whisper of, “yes,” when Lotor’s fingers dug more painfully into his shoulder as though he had needed prompted.

Like a pet.

A toy.

And he had responded to it.

_Dios._

“You are too kind, Lotor,” Allura lifted her face, skin dusted with only a hint of pink that matched her Altean markings. “It is I who should be complimenting the both of you; you look incredibly dashing.”

Lance couldn’t even feel a flicker of happiness at the statement or Allura’s smile as it turned on him.

Lotor’s hand still on his shoulder, arm about about his back, and friendly gesture to an outside observer, made sure that any chance of happiness was snuffed immediately out.

He felt only dread.

He wanted to get away.

He couldn’t get away.

“I thank you, Princess,” Lotor smiled. “And as stunning as you are, might I also say how nice it is to see you looking well again, Lance? You had me so _worried.”_

“All of us were,” Allura said softly, her gaze tender as it flitted between the two males. “Truly, Lotor, we cannot say thank you enough for your assistance. I do not know how we can ever repay you—”

“No payment necessary, Allura,” Lotor cut her off. “Although if you would do this humble emperor the honor of a dance tonight I would be delighted.”

“The pleasure is all mine,” Allura smiled.

Lance knew he should say something. Invite Allura to dance, even make it light hearted about how Blue Paladins had to stick together and not how much he actually wanted to dance with her, one on one, to show her that he wasn’t that cocky flirt of before but a gentleman, a…

A Paladin she could be proud of.

_“Imagine what the princess would think.”_

He stayed silent.

His tongue felt thick, his lips locked.

His quiet though was apparently noticed as Allura’s smile turned to a frown of concern. “Lance? Is everything all right?”

There was no way he could answer that.

He became aware of Lotor’s sharp gaze in his peripheral, the hint of a smirk pulling up fanged lips.

They both knew the answer to that question.

“Yeah. Just, uh, um—”

 _Dios,_ what was wrong with him?

“Lance!” Hunk’s loud tones cut across the bridge and a moment later he felt another large hand, but this hold welcome, wrap about his side and _tug_ him away from Lotor.

Lance tried not to look as relieved as he felt.

“Look at you,” Hunk said, pivoting Lance to face him and making a show of flicking invisible dust off of Lance’s shoulder. “I like the red!”

Beneath the joyful tones and the grin Lance could see something more calculating in Hunk’s gaze.

Hunk suspected something.

No.

He...

He had to fix this.

“Me too,” Lance said brightly, forcing himself to meet Hunk’s eyes. “Red is perfect for me since I’m so _hot,_ you know, like my Lion of _fire_?”

Hunk rolled his eyes with a laugh and Allura let out a giggle as well.

He couldn’t see it but he could almost feel Lotor’s gaze narrow on his back.

It made Lance stand a little bit taller.

That was right.

He’d stood up to Lotor before, had held his ground (sort of, not really, but sort of) and this time?

This time he wasn't alone.

He wasn’t ill.

And he absolutely was _not_ Lotor’s toy.

He was Lance, the Red Paladin, and he was _done_ with Lotor’s games.

Hopefully.

Maybe.

He was going to try.

Something warm bloomed in his chest and he realized a moment later it was pride.

He…

He hadn’t felt something like that in a long while.

Hunk’s eyes widened ever so, his smile becoming more genuine, and Lance felt his own mimic it.

He could do this.

A moment later the bridge was a flurry of movement as Shiro arrived and moved towards Lotor, Coran burst in in a whirlwind of orange, cape flying, towards Allura and Pidge shuffled in her gown, a blush decorating her face and clearly visible without the cover of her glasses that were instead highlighted by green and gold makeup accents, as Lance whistled at her.

“Shut up,” she muttered, jabbing an elbow into his side.

“You look really pretty, Pidge,” Hunk complimented more sincerely.

“Really?” Pidge asked, voice small for her and eyes tilted down.

“Really,” Lance said gently.

And she did, reminding him of the photo once upon a time in which he’d unintentionally called her beautiful not knowing she was the subject in question.

“You look beautiful,” he said softly, meaning every word, and making sure that this time she knew the words were for her. His mamá had told him that a gentleman always complimented a lady and while he knew Pidge typically didn’t care much for her appearance (images of the rat’s nest she called her hair, untrimmed, chewed nails and shapeless clothing she continued to wear because it was “all she had left of Earth”) he also knew that she _did_ still care and how scary it must feel to be so out of her element like this.

Pidge twirled a loose curl, cheeks darkening further. “Thank you.”

“You’ll have to save a dance for me,” Lance told her with a wink and she gave him another elbow jab even as she nodded, expression brightening.

He realized she had been even more reluctant to go to the party than him. At least, if he could avoid Lotor, Lance knew he could have a good time. Big social gatherings really weren’t Pidge’s thing at all.

“We’ll have fun,” he told her more softly. “You, me and Hunk.”

“Dancing and food, lots of food,” Hunk joined in, his own tone gentle. “Actually, maybe just food for me.”

“Uh uh, if I have to dance you do too,” Pidge poked him and Hunk laughed and nodded.

Lance was relieved to see the more impish look on Pidge’s face in place of the timidity.

That was their Pidge.  

“Ahem,” Lotor coughed lightly, interrupting the conversations about the room. Lance did not allow himself to feel a shudder at the voice.

No more.

“We must proceed shortly to my castle,” he said, “to be formally announced and begin the festivities. But before we depart I wished to present each of you with a gift to show how _special_ you and this alliance are to me.”

A shiver went down Lance’s spine without his permission as Lotor locked gazes with him on the emphasized word.

_“You are truly something special.”_

“That is incredibly generous of you,” Allura smiled at him, placing a slender hand on Lotor’s arm where he stood next to her. “But it is not necessary. Having you stand by our side after all this time is a gift enough.”

Lance could almost hear Lotor’s smirk of success and his stomach rolled.

Allura was completely charmed by him.

Enamored, Lotor had sneered at him as he pinned Lance to the hospital bed.

He’d been right.

And Allura had no idea what kind of monster he really was and Lance...

He didn’t know how to tell her.

Not without admitting what had happened (even though nothing had, nothing) and the fallout that would come with it.

“Your words warm me, Allura,” Lotor spoke, interrupting Lance’s current thoughts that were making his insides twist again. “But I chose these pieces specifically for each of you and it would do me a great honor to bestow them.”

“Then we accept your gift with great thanks,” Allura inclined her head.

Lotor flicked his hand and a Galran dressed in simple armor that Lance had not noticed standing by the door, stepped forward with a small silver and black chest in his hands.

“If you would form a line,” Lotor asked.

Lance moved to step behind Pidge but Shiro was stepping to Allura’s side and he realized line was not single-file but the spread out one used in award ceremonies.

Because Lotor was going to “award” them his gifts.

Lance didn’t want _anything_ Lotor gave him.

He also had no choice but to accept.

Well, he pressed his lips together as he instead stepped next to Pidge at the end of the line, who had adjusted accordingly to their leaders, he would do so with great sincerity.

A compliment was the best way to fight a bully, Papá used to tell him. It hadn’t always worked but Lance figured it was worth a shot here.

It was better than the pathetic trembling figure he had been cutting in any case.

Lotor stepped up to Shiro first and Lance found himself curious even against his reservations as to _what_ it was Lotor was giving them.

The Galran dipped an elegant hand into the chest and emerged with what looked like a… a circlet?

It was done in sold black, almost a smaller version of Lotor’s crown.

“For the Black Paladin, the leader of Voltron,” Lotor said, holding the circlet aloft and Shiro lowered his head, allowing Lotor to settle it atop his brow.

Shiro was bowing to Lotor.

Lance couldn’t explain the sudden sensation of _wrong_ that slammed into him at the submissive pose and the way Lotor’s lip curled.

No one else seemed to notice.

“Each of these items are from the Galra Empire’s treasury,” Lotor said, taking a step sideways to stand in front of Allura. “I regret to say most were likely obtained via less than ideal means, but my hope is that one day they may be restored to their rightful homes. These pieces, however, are for the Paladins of Voltron and their allies.”

From the chest he then pulled out a necklace, layers and layers of blue and white and pink gems on fine silver chains.

Allura’s breath caught as Lotor held it up in front of her.

“May I?” he asked and she nodded.

“It is beautiful,” she murmured as Lotor stepped behind her and Lance watched as his hands trailed across her neck, setting the clasp before arranging the cascading jewels to lie flat against Allura’s neck and collarbone.

She leaned back into his touch.

“Not as beautiful as you,” Lotor murmured and Allura flushed pink.

Coran let out a cough that time and Lotor’s smile turned a tad rueful.

Lance knew it was all an act.

He hated it.

He hated how no one else seemed to see it.

To Coran, Lotor presented a pin in orange and gold, to Hunk a ring made of bronze with a large yellow stone that was flecked with brown lines. Pidge received a green jeweled barrette and Lance had felt his neck prickle as Pidge had allowed Lotor to place it in her hair when he asked even though there was a slight grimace to her face, pinning back one of the wayward curls that framed her face.

And then it was his turn.

Lotor stepped up to him, the item he’d retrieved from the chest hidden in his hands.

Lance dearly hoped it was some sort of ring like Hunk’s, even a bracelet.

Anything that limited their contact.

“This piece,” Lotor smiled that Lance knew was not kind, “is from my own personal collection.”

What?

No.

No no no.

Lance forced himself to hold his ground as Lotor stepped even closer, nearly toe to toe.  

“I saw it and immediately thought of you, Lance. It’s just such a perfect fit, especially for your… _delicate_ features.”

And saying so Lotor revealed the item.

It was a necklace.

But not just any necklace.

A collar.

It was an intricate one, a gold band about two inches thick, with stylized lines carved into it that swirled in Galran tradition of sharp angles and cuts to surround a jewel that was unlike any Lance had seen before: a diamond shaped purple stone that bled to the edges in red and blue.

The red and blue could represent his Paladin colors but the main focus of the purple?

Galra.

Lotor.

_His._

Lance’s earlier conviction to give a compliment withered as Lotor’s smirk, visible only to him, widened into something crueler.

Another game.

A collar for his doll, his toy.

Lance felt sick.

Lotor did not ask him permission as he had the others to bestow the jewelry.

He merely stepped behind Lance, hands wrapping about the front of his throat and knuckles brushing almost sensually against the back of his neck.

The gold was cold as it pressed down and the barely audible click of the clasp, the edges connecting flushly, felt like nails being hammered into a coffin.

Lance couldn’t breathe.

And it wasn’t because the collar was snug, bobbing as he swallowed and struggled to regain some semblance of words.

He couldn’t.

Lotor was…

He was _toying_ with him in front of _everyone_ and…

And no one saw.

Well, Lance amended as he drew in a shallow breath, Hunk was noticing something, his stance in his peripheral shifting forward and Pidge had pivoted, a frown forming on her lips.

But they said nothing.

And how could they? Lance wasn’t saying anything, couldn’t say anything, so why should he expect them to?

_“Can you do anything?”_

“Look at that,” Lotor said softly, coming to stand in front in Lance to admire the necklace, fingers ghosting across his skin as he trailed them away from the jewelry. “It absolutely is a perfect fit.”

Lotor _finally_ stepped away then, flipping his hair so that it nearly smacked Lance in the face and proceeded back towards Allura. Lance could _feel_ Hunk’s gaze on him and he purposefully kept looking straight.

Nothing had just happened.

Nothing.

Lotor had given him a piece of jewelry just like he had everyone else.

That was it.

Everything was fine.

_Nothing happened._

“I believe it is now time for us to depart,” Lotor said. “Allura?”

“I concur. Shiro, everything is prepared?

“Yes, Princess.”

Lotor turned to the Galran guard. “Report back to the castle and alert the herald for our impending arrival.”

The Galran bowed low. “Yes, my lord.”

Lance felt his heart stutter.

Lotor wasn’t leaving with his guard? He was riding with them?

They were all going down in the Black Lion, Shiro and Coran having spent the morning installing some safety straps to hold onto as they would be performing some aerial maneuvers for the gathered gala crowd before landing and only Shiro would be safely buckled down in the pilot’s seat.

Fortunately Lotor seemed to have eyes only for Allura at the moment, offering her an arm that she placed her own atop of and then through as he escorted her, Shiro in the lead and Coran racing ahead with a shout of something about the hangar doors.

Lance couldn’t even feel jealous as he watched Allura in such close proximity to Lotor. He was just glad that that sharp yellow and purple gaze was not focused on him.

But two sets of honey brown were and while not cruel they were intense.

“Lance—”

“Hurry, hurry,” Lance cut Hunk off, pressing a hand against Hunk’s back to try and push the larger boy forward. “Adoring crowds are awaiting.”

“Lance,” he tried again, turning his head over his shoulder even as he shuffled with Lance’s prodding. “What—?”

“Nope,” Lance interjected again, heart racing and palms sweaty and trying not to think too much on Pidge’s unnatural silence as he could practically see her thinking. “I’m not sitting in the back when I can get a front row seat of _Shiro_ piloting. C’mon, move those feet, Hunk.”

And that at least wasn’t a lie. Lance really had been looking forward to being in the cockpit while Shiro flew and seeing his hero up close in his element.

Considering they’d all been in space for months together he’d never actually _seen_ Shiro pilot and also, he swallowed, he’d never ridden in the Black Lion, the closest he got sitting in the chair and trying to convince the Black Lion he was worthy.

Clearly not.

_“What would Shiro think if he knew?”_

Definitely not.

“ _What kind of Paladin would allow this?”_

Lance forced the words, the memories of Lotor’s searing touch, away and pulled on the brightest, largest smile he could.

It felt fake.

He forced it wider.

“Okay, okay,” Hunk acquiesced.

Lance knew this wasn’t over.

But it would be fine. He just needed a little bit of time to get his head back on straight, like he had not even fifteen minutes ago, and then he could face Hunk and look him in the eye as he…

As he lied to him.

But it wasn’t really lying, not really.

There was nothing to lie about or hide because _nothing happened._

Lance faintly wondered how much longer it was he could keep lying to himself.

He…

He was afraid to find out.

But more than that…

He was afraid that someone else would.

And he had no idea what he would do then.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome to the third and final installment to _My Favorite Toy_ and this one, I promise, will have the comfort and revelations that y’all kept asking for. What can I say, I’m a Disney girl and I like my happy endings ♥ It might just take us a bit to get there because you know, angst :D
> 
> I am doing something a little different with this fic though. As though of you who follow my Tumblr have seen, I’m putting this fic’s updates in your hands. Just like how you voted for me to post this one first above a different chaptered fic, it’s going to be up to you as to when new chapters arrive. Ever since I entered the VLD fandom I have always had update schedules and never erred from them but it’s a new year and I think it’s time to change it up a bit. Plus, I would love to encourage you, the readers, to be more engaged with the fic and the process as I think it lends to a more exciting experience rather than “just reading” and a little author appreciation goes a long way too.
> 
> That is why this fic has no weekly update schedule. Instead, it will update after a combination of engagement items consisting of hits, comments and bookmarks are reached each chapter. That means a chapter could update in a day… or two weeks. I will be updating every two weeks on Thursday in any case just so it doesn’t get stuck in limbo and because I do want to share it. But its fate is in your hands. No pressure ;p
> 
> So, if you are enjoying the fic and want to see the next chapter, leave an engaging comment below. Share a favorite scene, line of dialogue, feeling you got, predictions for the next chapter, whatever really comes to mind. Have fun, enjoy the fic and hope to hear from you! ♥


	2. Two

Lance wasn’t quite sure how to admit this to even himself but…

He was having _fun._

He credited all of it to the fact he had successfully managed to avoid Lotor the entire evening after they had arrived. Even during the trip over in the Black Lion — and Shiro’s piloting was all Lance ever imagined it to be as Shiro took them in and out of dives and spirals that even as a pilot himself had made Lance’s stomach lurch with excitement and _Dios_ could the man fly — where Lotor was present the emperor had been on the other side of the cockpit with Allura and with a firm buffer of Hunk and Coran in between them Lance had almost forgotten he was there.

Almost.

The constant feeling of the necklace wrapped tight about his neck wouldn’t let him do so entirely.

He wanted to take it off but then Allura would ask why and he could already see her disappointment and so he forced himself to leave it alone, not even touching it with his own hands.

They’d arrived at the castle steps where crowds of both dignitaries and Galra denizens alike lined the path and they had exited Black one at a time as their names were called. Lotor went first, followed by Allura and then Shiro, to Lance’s surprise him next and then Hunk and Pidge.

The herald hadn’t missed a beat as he introduced Lance as the Red Paladin of Voltron and Lance had felt his shoulders untense as he realized that there would be no mockery, no hidden sneer of the word, and managed to lift a hand in a wave to the cheers.

They had grown louder and with them so had his smile.

He was the Red Paladin.

It was time to start acting like it.

They’d been swept into the castle and towards a large hall where a feast had been laid out with the Paladins of Voltron along with Lotor and Coran at the head table and the other rulers at a secondary one with their subjects spread out all about the floor.

Lotor had placed himself between Shiro and Allura and Lance’s spot was between Shiro and Hunk (Pidge next to Allura with Coran at the other end) which made it so conversation between them was nearly impossible.

Lance spent the about varga long feast sampling the food with Hunk providing commentary on the dishes and although Lance just knew Hunk wanted to say something, to demand answers as to _what_ was going on, he had said nothing on the subject and Lance was so, so grateful.

He was still working on his mask.

But it was beginning to feel more natural with every passing dobash and by the time the meal ended Lance wasn’t even forcing smiles and laughs.

There had been a speech after that had been slightly more difficult to sit through as Lotor spoke about how _honored_ he was to be able to work alongside Voltron and bring the universe to a new era of peace.

The worst part?

He sounded so _sincere_ and Lance…

Lance didn’t know how much of it was actually true.

Yes, Lotor was… he didn’t quite know the word, but for all the games he played with Lance and all of his cruelties Lance was fairly certain that Lotor _did_ care about Allura and _did_ want to work with Voltron.

However…

Lance did also think that Lotor had a hidden motive. He hadn’t forgotten his initial distrust, which had only grown from Lotor’s actions and games, of the way the entire trade for Commander Holt had been accepted so easily by Lotor when not even he could have known of Shiro’s plan to give him his bayard at the initial decision.

He hadn’t forgotten how Lotor had only teamed up with Voltron after he had been labeled a traitor by the Galra, had ruined any chance of actually assisting them when he had been in a position of earlier power to do so.  He never forgot Lotor’s words in the laundry room, calling his generals “pawns” and _laughing_ about having to kill one of them.

He had called it the finer points of war, had made the end justify the means. Somehow, for some reason, Allura and Shiro had believed him, had looked _sympathetic_ upon learning how one of his own had been used as a spy against him.

So as sincere as Lotor sounded, as pretty his flowery words and promises to the universe, Lance didn’t buy it. Lotor might be helping them now but he had an ulterior motive.

Lance just didn’t know what.

And when he’d brought it up all those weeks ago, before Lotor had turned his distrust into a _game,_ he’d been brushed off, his concerns negated because Allura and Shiro _did_ trust Lotor, saw all the good he had done, all of his assistance and _they_ believed in him.

And next to them…

Lance’s words meant little.

His initial dislike and distrust of Lotor had pushed his opinions into a corner and anything he said against the Emperor came off as biased and unfair. With the way Lotor had cared for him, personally nursed him back to health, it made it appear that he was truly kind and benevolent and any protests now would be met with skepticism at best and disappointment at worst.

And anything Lance tried to say Lotor had a counter, honey dipped poison that Allura and Shiro ate out of his hand. He could twist anything to his advantage — a botched training run, a return of his slippers, a massage, _anything_ — and Lance found his own words silenced.

As Lance had already realized, he had messed up.

He’d messed up very badly.

And there was no way to fix it.

Well, if he told Allura and Shiro what was going on then maybe they…

But no.

He couldn’t. Shame practically _burned_ him at the very thought of what they would think of him. As Lotor had said… what kind of Paladin would allow that?

But…

But if it was between his role as a Paladin and the safety of the universe…

But that was the thing too. Lotor was an ally, a very public one, and if he were to be the cause of their alliance falling apart, of the universe losing the Galran’s support and starting the war anew on multiple fronts again...

The thought curdled his stomach.

And in any case there was no evidence and technically… technically Lotor hadn’t done anything.

Not really.

Nothing had happened.

Lance would keep up that lie as long as he could.

The gala was a welcome distraction to those thoughts as after the speech it was to the dance floor for the remainder of the night. They had all been given a quick dancing lesson before the evening and watching Allura demonstrate with Shiro had even made Lance laugh at the time despite himself (even though he wished it had been he she had chosen to practice with).

The dance floor at the gala was to be used as a means of not just entertainment but for discussions that were typically less political in nature and more of a way to make potential alliances. It sounded very opposite of what Lance imagined the cutthroat Galran culture should be, but, Allura had sobered and said that this wasn’t Galran culture… it was Altean.  Lotor wished to honor his mother’s heritage, honor _Allura,_ and Allura had looked so _happy_ then that Lance had said nothing else.

He couldn’t.

Due to the fact that dance was thus used as a conversational medium the typical gender roles were not applied and anyone could dance with anyone. That meant though that the designation of “lead” was fluid too.

It first went by political stature with the higher ranking individual as the lead. That could be confusing though as even though Allura was a princess Shiro was the leader of Voltron and as thus they were about equal rank. Not to mention at a gala like the one Lotor was hosting it would be attended by royalty from all over and they would all be equal in standing. In the case that the two were about evenly matched it then went to height order with the tallest person being the lead dancer. Hand placement depended on the lead as well, Allura said, morphing sizes to demonstrate both with Shiro.

When one was the lead their right hand (or tentacle or wing or whatever appendage an alien had) rested on their partner’s waist and their left arm bent at the elbow and held the opposite of their partner’s. The partner’s left hand then rested on the upper right arm of the lead dancer. The dancers should look at one another, face front, as the dance was primarily for conversation and eye contact was important to convey trust and respect for one another.

Trust.

Respect.

Lance had tried not to shiver.

Dancing was simple too, Allura had said as Shiro had frozen when she had tugged him onto the dance floor in one of the castle’s several ballrooms. There were of course some traditional Galra and Altean dances but given the great make up of the attendees and the fact that no one had attended either culture’s dance in ten thousand years, it was being kept to mostly simple steps and patterns.

Lance was pleased that he picked up the simple box step within a dobash and the general swaying was as easy as breathing.

Allura had them practice with each other so they got a feel for being both the lead and follower, even Pidge as her title of Paladin meant she would be higher in rank than the entourages of the nobility. Lance had wanted to ask Allura to dance with him, even just in practice, but she had taken one look at him as he steered Hunk about the room as the lead and said, “ _Excellent job, Lance! Can you assist me with the others please?”_ and while the compliment had him blushing — Allura thought he was an excellent dancer? _Dios._ That was… _Dios —_ he wished she’d needed to instruct him some herself.

But the practice had been fun and upon hitting the actual dance floor Lance found it to be the same.

He started off the evening with Pidge who had frozen on the edge of the dance floor (no food yet to escape to on the sidelines and as Paladins they were expected to at least make an early appearance) and after a few moments where Pidge had refused to look up at him and her grip had been almost bruising as she clutched at his hand, her palm sweaty, when the music picked up tempo Lance had dipped her without warning and she'd laughed, punched his arm, and they had been off.

The dance floor was crowded with all sorts although Lotor, one of the tallest already in the room and with his silver hair and high crown as well as the space people tend to automatically give him, was easy enough to spot.

Lance made sure to stay on the opposite side.

And here, surrounded by people smiling and laughing and at _peace,_ with the music playing and laughter splitting the air and the scent of different perfumes and colognes mingling with the trays of desserts and snacks set out around the room, Lance let go of his earlier worries.

He danced with aliens of all sorts, a few allies he knew and some he didn’t know at all, chatted easily as they spun about the room about small things, mentioning to some possible potential allies stories of how Voltron had helped save various planets, interspersed with some of their funnier tales (including many discussions of The Voltron Show).

Lance made certain to intersect with Pidge a couple times a varga to make sure she was doing okay but she had found an alien race, the Sabodids, who hailed from a planet made entirely of technology, and Lance knew she was in good hands… er, well, paws really as the Sabodids were very canine in appearance.

The only person he had yet to dance with that he _really_ wanted to was Allura, but she was in high demand all evening, finishing one dance to be swept into another. She had danced with Lotor, twice, he grimaced, as there had been no ignoring that fact as the whispers ran about the dance floor and there was a murmur of consensus of how _perfect_ the two looked together.

Lance’s stomach twisted and he’d had to excuse himself from his current partner for the remainder of that dance. Even when Allura had morphed, growing taller so that _she_ was the lead against the Galra emperor to chuckles around the room hadn’t roused one from him as Lotor had laughed too, a bright, light sound without a hint of mockery.

It confirmed one of Lance’s worst fears.

Lotor loved Allura.

And Allura…

Allura loved Lotor.

He’d stopped looking for an opening to ask her to dance.

He had no doubt even if he did Lotor would swoop in like he had on the bridge and whisk her off and Lance…

Lance couldn’t handle the rejection.

Maybe it was better this way.

He ended up downing a glass of the champagne despite his initial promise to himself to not drink outside of the speech toast as one, he knew his mamá did not approve of underage drinking and two, he did not want to be even slightly tipsy with Lotor hanging about. But it hadn’t helped him forget the memory in the slightest and he kept to the punch bowl after that.

He’d danced with Hunk a few times and Shiro once (who was still as stiff as he had been in practice although Lance slowly saw him start to loosen up as the night went on and the drinks began to appear more frequently).

He’d made a joking comment to Coran that they might have some loop de loops on their flight back to the castle as Shiro got progressively more and more flushed and none of them could fly the Black Lion (and he knew he _never_ could) themselves.

Coran’s answer had chilled him.

They weren’t going back to the castle tonight.

Lotor had offered to house them in his guest wing as the night was going to go long and he wanted them all to enjoy themselves fully without reservation as announced on the initial invitation.The offer had been extended to other dignitaries too although the Paladins had an entire section of rooms to themselves just a hall over from Lotor’s own.

Lotor.

Down the hall.

_Dios._

Lance must have made some sort of expression as Coran’s jeweled eyes had drawn together and he’d lost the easygoing smile with a quiet, “ _Number Three? Is everything all right?”_ and Lance had forced himself to nod.

He just…

He hadn’t packed pajamas.

Coran had immediately brightened and said that was not an issue at all as Lotor and his staff would provide night clothing as well as required toiletries.

Lance had had no option but to smile, nod, and then had slipped away with a mumbled excuse of needing the bathroom as the pastry he’d just eaten was disagreeing with him.

It would be fine, he told himself, clutching at the bathroom sink and begging his stomach to settle. The party would extend late and everyone, including Lotor, would be tired. Besides, he’d thought bitterly, Lotor had Allura’s sole attention now and she had been his goal all along. Lance had just been there to amuse him in the meantime.

And if that wasn’t entirely the case, if Lotor was still trying to play a new game — his neck twinged uncomfortably and Lance had had to look away from the mirror as the collar gleamed at him and _what_ game did Lotor want to play? What could he _do?_ What could Lance do? _“Nothing,”_ came Lotor’s whisper and he’d shuddered — then Lance would just stay awake all night. Locking the door would likely prove useless but if he huddled next to it and Lotor even tried to come in he could escape.

 _Where_ he would go he didn’t know. Hunk, always his first choice, would corner him then, demand answers that Lance couldn’t give. He was sure though there had to be some room he could barricade himself in, some closet out of the way where Lotor wouldn’t find him.

The thought of locking himself in a broom closet to hide from the Galran emperor in his own castle brought a slightly hysterical laugh to Lance’s lips and he’d quashed it down with a panic that someone else could walk into the bathroom at any moment.

Someone like Lotor.

It had been that thought, of being cornered by him in the bathroom alone, that prompted Lance back to the dance hall where at least this way he could keep an eye on Lotor and stay far, far away from him.

First rule of sniping: don’t lose sight of your target.

And while this wasn’t a battle, wasn’t a sniping situation, Lance was very, very aware of where Lotor was.

Until he wasn’t.

It had happened somewhere between Lance coming off the dance floor and stopping at the non-alcoholic punch bowl to down a glass as he was starting to feel a bit woozy from all of the spins his last partner had put him through.

But it was okay. Everything was fine. He’d just keep his back to the table and find Lotor before he moved anywhere in the room again.

A minute later he still didn’t see him.

Not with Allura, as he spotted her on the floor with an Olkarion dignitary who had accompanied Ryner.

Not with Shiro,who was standing off to the edge and talking with a few Galran guards who had been providing a security detail.

Not over by the—

A hand touched his elbow.

Lance _whirled_ around, heart in his throat.

A willowy looking _gorgeous_ alien, dark hair piled atop her head that two little nubbed horns peeked through and dressed in a white and green gown, stood there.

Not Lotor.

“I apologize, Red Paladin Lance,” the alien said, sounding contrite. “I did not mean to startle you.”

“Ah, no, no,” Lance said quickly. Think. Recover. Paladins didn’t startle, Paladins weren’t scared at a party. Fix it. He had to fix this.  “I just, uh… that’s, um, a ticklish spot.”

She cocked her head. “Ticklish?”

Lance let out a laugh and rubbed the back of his head. “Yeah. Um, it’s a sensation humans have. Like, a tingly feeling. It can make you laugh but some humans have more sensitive spots and it can hurt.”

“Oh!” her hand lifted off his arm. “I did not mean—”

“No, no, it’s cool,” Lance reached out and caught her retreating hand, feeling now that her skin had small little rivulets all over it. “You didn’t hurt me at all. Although,” he shot her a wink, “if you don’t accept my offer of a dance now I will be hurt indeed.”

A blush, dark green in color, spread across her cheeks even as her lips quirked up. “I would be honored to accept a dance from Loverboy Lance.”

“Ah, my reputation precedes me,” Lance grinned. “A fan?”

Her blush darkened although she held his gaze, flecks of amber in her otherwise black eyes. “I have not missed a show.”

Lance’s grin widened, his heart back to an almost normal tempo. “And what might your name be, my number one fan?”

“I am Nalia of Oswega,” she murmured.

“Well, Nalia, may I—?”

Lance cut off as another hand, this one larger, descended on his shoulder.

He knew that touch anywhere.

Oh no.

Oh _Dios_ no.

“Lance,” Lotor’s smooth voice came from behind him, “there you are. I have been looking _everywhere_ for you.”

Lance swore his heart stopped.

Nalia’s eyes widened and she dropped into a curtsy. “Emperor Lotor.”

Lance couldn’t see it but he could feel Lotor’s smile. “Greetings. If you do not mind…”

Lotor let the words hang. It was clear it was not a request but his tone was pleasant and Nalia bobbed her head. “Of course. Another time, perhaps?” she turned to look at Lance and he barely managed a tight smile as the hand tightened on his shoulder.

Nalia bid them a quiet farewell and departed.

Lance could feel eyes on them still, Lotor drawing attention wherever he went and doubly so when he was in the presence of members of Voltron.

Lance could not make a scene.

Lotor’s hand had still not left his shoulder.

Lance, under the guise of turning to face Lotor, shifted out from beneath it, relieved when Lotor let go.

“Emperor Lotor,” he bit the name out, trying to keep his voice even.

He couldn’t force himself to do any more even though he _should,_ he _needed_ to. But the thought of sounding pleasant, of using even an inkling of his own charm on Lotor made his stomach heave even more.

“Now now,” Lotor chuckled. “There is no need for formalities between us, _Lance,”_ and Lance could practically sense the peaked interest as aliens about them tuned into the conversation.

His stomach rolled.

They were all watching.

Lotor had picked a public stage and he was _reveling_ in it as Lance forced himself to meet the sharp yellow and purple gaze.

“I trust you are enjoying the gala?”

Trust.

That word meant so little and yet so much.

Lance wanted to answer with, “I was,” but he held his tongue.

“Yes,” he said more simply, but it was too simple for him.

More.

What else could he say?

Lotor and the equally unwanted audience were waiting.

“It’s quite the event,” he was speaking although the words sounded as though from someone else. “I’m having a great time.”

“I am so glad to hear it. This is a _special_ evening, of course, celebrating our alliance. Our,” Lotor’s lips curled, “union.”

Lance kept his face blank.

He could feel his pulse thrumming.

“And so we should commemorate it properly. If I might have this dance, Lance?”

The whispers increased.

The emperor _asking_ someone to dance? It was typically the other way as Lotor was _the_ highest ranking person in the room given that he was playing host.

They both knew though that Lotor was not asking.

And Lance had no real option but to accept.

_Dios._

He inclined his head.

That wasn’t enough. He could feel the stares, the confusion at his response. Weren't the Paladins allies of the Galra Empire? Shouldn’t the Paladin be more _friendly_ after the emperor had greeted him so familiarly?

What was wrong with the Paladin?

He needed to say something.

He forced his lips into a smile that he knew didn’t meet his eyes. “I would be honored.”

“Delightful. Come, Lance,” his hand descended back on Lance’s shoulder as he guided him towards the dance floor.

Lotor’s fang peeked over his lip. “Let’s have some fun.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow you guys. You really wanted the next chapter, huh? I’ll be honest, I’m not sure I’ve ever seen such an… enthusiastic response on any fic before. Thank you so very much for your lovely comments, I really appreciate them. And as your reward, an update in two days (and on a weekend, I never update on weekends xD). What?!?! Crazy! But that’s what a happy author looks like. If you’d like another quick update you know what to do ;p
> 
> I had a number of people express interest in seeing the gala outfits designed so I took a crack at it (cough, at Lance’s, cough). You can see [my interpretation here ♥ ](http://icypantherwrites.tumblr.com/post/181719021014/i-spent-far-far-too-long-on-this-p-but-there-was). If you feel the itch to draw them as well please let me know as I’d love to share them!
> 
> I hope you all enjoyed the chapter, looks like things are gonna heat up again on the dance floor :D Drop an engaging comment before you head out; favorite line, scene, dialogue, prediction, feeling… I love hearing from you! Thanks!


	3. Three

Lotor steered him onto the dance floor, the crowd parting for the Galra emperor.

Lance’s heart was beating so loud in his head he couldn’t even hear the music.

A purple hand descended on his waist and Lance found his right hand being lifted and his fingers threaded through Lotor’s. He placed his other hand in numb instinct on Lotor’s arm although he kept his face trained at level, which brought him even with Lotor’s chest where the tunic and robe in black and purple hung.

Lotor let out a soft laugh, his thumb rubbed just above Lance’s hip, and then he was stepping into the dance.

Lance had no choice but to follow his lead.

“I must say,” Lotor said conversationally, “red is absolutely your color.” His hand caressed Lance’s side where the colored belt rested. “It complements your skin tone so nicely. So… _warm._ ”

Lance kept his lips pressed together.

No one on the dance floor would be listening, he knew, or at least not well, between the music and the movement. Even so he couldn’t afford to say something that could carry, that could make a mark against Voltron.

That could hurt the alliance.

“Alas,” Lotor’s smile grew, “simply wearing a color doesn’t mean anything, now does it, _Red_ Paladin?”

The title had the barest hint of jest to it but Lance heard it loud and clear.

“Actually though,” Lotor continued, “I am liking this purple color on you best.”

And before Lance could even try to push back Lotor had lifted their conjoined hands and brushed them both against Lance’s neck where the jeweled collar shone before a long finger lifted to ever so gently brush against Lance’s cheek.

Lance tried not to recoil.

Lotor chuckled, bringing their hands back down to Lance’s shoulder height.

“It really does fit you,” Lotor said. “In more ways than one. Wouldn’t you agree?”

“What do you want?” Lance asked instead of answering Lotor’s question, relieved when his voice didn’t shake.

Lotor had Allura now.

So…

So what was this?

What did he want with _him?_

Lotor clucked his tongue. “This question again? As I told you before,” Lotor squeezed his hand, painfully, and Lance tried not to wince. “I want many things. But what do I want with _you?_ Well,” Lotor leaned forward, his breath hot on Lance’s ear, “what do you think, my favorite toy?”

Lotor pulled back, eyes dancing with amusement as Lance felt his own widening.

Even here…

On a dance floor surrounded by some of the most powerful people in the entire universe…

Lotor didn’t even try to hide what he was doing.

There was nothing for him to hide.

And apparently…

Apparently even though Lotor had won, their game, Allura’s affections… he still wasn’t done playing with his toy.

_Dios._

“You are special to me, Lance,” Lotor said, pivoting them around the floor. “I had thought you realized that by now.”

Lance couldn’t come up with a response to that.

“Now the only question,” Lotor said, “is what to play next. What do you say to a game, Lance?”

A game?

Here?

Now?

No.

No more games.

No more—

“Perhaps later tonight,” Lotor said, eyes glimmering. “You are just down the hall after all.”

The implication was clear.

Lance missed his next step.

He stumbled directly into Lotor’s chest and to his alarm he felt the hand on his waist snake about him completely, his other hand trapped between them.

No.

No no no no _no._

He tried to pull back but Lotor’s grip tightened, pressing him even more flush against his front.

No one gave them a second glance as the music moved to something even slower than it had been and dancers all about began to simply sway.

“Lotor,” Lance choked out, trying to disentangle his hand, to push away with his other, but Lotor was too tall, too big, too strong.

And Lance was too weak.

_“Can you do anything?”_

No.

Not then.

And not now.

He could technically probably free himself. If he pushed hard enough, stomped on Lotor’s foot, he could get away.

And everyone would see.

They would see a Paladin of Voltron _fleeing_ from the Galra emperor, their ally.

They would wonder why. They might question the alliance.

The universe could not afford that. For as distrustful as Lotor was he was right now on their side, he was helping them, helping to fix the damage Zarkon and his ten thousand year long war had done.

He was trapped.

Trapped on a dance floor surrounded by friends and allies.

And more than that…

Trapped in this lie, this charade, this _game._

And Lotor knew it.

Lance slumped in the hold, blinking back the hot tears of frustration and shame that were trying to make their appearance known.

“Much better,” Lotor murmured, his head bent down again, long hair tickling Lance’s neck while his breath warmed his face. “Isn’t this better, Lance?”

Protesting would be useless.

He swayed in time with Lotor.

He couldn’t do anything else.

Lotor was the puppeteer and he was the marionette, a doll.

A _toy._

And just like a marionette…

He was the show, the entertainment.

He…

He was no Paladin.

Lotor knew it.

And if he didn’t go along with the act then everyone else would too.

“Perhaps,” Lotor’s voice dropped and his nose bumped against Lance’s cheek. “We should give everyone a real show, hm? After all, I want to show everyone just how _special_ you are.”

Lotor was withdrawing from the forced embrace, his one hand going back to Lance’s hip but he released their conjoined ones and instead lifted his own to brush his thumb against Lance’s lips.

“Let’s see a smile, hm? You wouldn’t want to disappoint the princess, now would you?”

An all too familiar feeling of helplessness threatened to suffocate Lance as Lotor continued to lay out his trap, his one-sided game.

He just wanted to cry.

He’d messed up.

Again.

He just couldn’t ignore Lotor, couldn’t not react, couldn’t do anything right no matter how many times he tried.

He couldn’t believe he’d ever managed to feel an inkling of pride earlier.

He was pathetic.

And if he didn’t want Allura and Shiro to find out just how much…

He had to play the game.

He swallowed thickly…

And forced his lips upwards.

The music began to pick up tempo and with it Lance’s already racing heartbeat.

Any second now Lotor was… was going to _parade_ them, try to draw every eye and Lance…

Lance had to look like he was enjoying it.

Oh _Dios._

He couldn’t.

He couldn’t do this.

He had to do this.

He—

A hand wrapped about his wrist on the hand intertwined with Lotor’s own, dragging Lance to the side and halting Lotor’s about to promenade step.

Lance knew that hand.

“Pardon me,” Hunk said, although there was no lilt to his tone.

It was hard.

Angry.

Dangerous.

Lance shivered.

“Yellow Paladin,” Lotor greeted, lip curling with what Lance couldn’t tell was disdain or amusement.

Maybe both.

“I’m going to cut in now,” Hunk said.

At that Lotor did let out a soft huff of laughter. “Stealing away the emperor’s partner?”

Lance couldn’t see Hunk’s face but he could still feel the hard set of normally gentle eyes and Hunk’s grip tightened on his arm.

He didn’t answer.

Lance faintly wondered what he was seeing.

“Hunk,” Lance whispered as he could feel their group starting to draw attention as everyone danced about them and they remained stationary.

He didn’t want to make a scene.

Lotor chuckled and to Lance’s surprise and relief released his hand from about Lance’s waist although he kept a firm grip on their intertwined ones.

He lifted them without any trouble even with what Lance could feel of Hunk’s resistance on his still wrapped wrist, and pressed a kiss against the back of Lance’s hand.

Lance’s breath hitched.

Allura had told them that in Altean culture a kiss pressed to the forehead or hand, palm or back of it, denoted a promise between either family or very close relations. He had no idea what it meant, if anything, in Galran, but...

Lance did not want any promise from Lotor.

He did not want any type of denoted close relationship.

He could already hear the whispers, the hum of those around him, who had seen it and were no doubt speculating as to it themselves.

“It has been a pleasure, Lance,” Lotor said, sharp purple framed by yellow boring into his own ocean blue. “Until we see each other again.”

And with an inclination of his head and a flip of his robes and hair, Lotor released Lance’s hand and made for the edge of the dance floor, the crowd parting about him.

Lance felt frozen.

Hunk was capable of moving though, the hand about Lance’s wrist shifting to hold his fingers and he pivoted Lance to face him, taking the lead.

Lance kept his head tilted down even as he numbly placed his other hand correctly and forced leaden feet into the basic step.

He couldn’t look Hunk in the eye.

He was afraid of what he’d see.

Of what Hunk thought he knew.

Oh _Dios._

“Two passes,” Hunk whispered, breath warm on Lance’s ear where he had his forehead pressed against Hunk’s chest and trying to hide his face that he knew was not anything close to the mask he needed to be wearing.

Lance managed a nod, both grateful and sick.

He wanted to get off the dance floor, out of sight of the crowds.

He couldn’t though after Hunk had drawn so much attention cutting in on Lotor’s dance.

Two passes would be enough.

It had to be enough because Lance didn’t think he was capable of any more.

He couldn’t stop shaking.

He knew Hunk could feel it.

They were moving off the dance floor a few minutes later and Hunk slung an arm about Lance’s shoulders, guiding him from the ballroom.

Lance knew he should summon up a smile, should lift his head, but it felt so _heavy_ and his eyes were stinging and he felt that if he opened his mouth he would be sick.

There were some inquiries thrown their direction but Hunk, his voice back to that mostly jovial tone although Lance could hear the hard line underneath it, responded for them both: they needed some fresh air, Lance was a little dizzy, thank you for the concern.

Hunk said nothing to him as they hit a hallway except a quiet, “this way,” as he directed him down it and around a corner.

The sounds of the party grew fainter and fainter.

They disappeared completely as Hunk ushered him into an elevator, muttering below his breath about overcomplicated buttons but beneath the complaint Lance could make out Hunk’s own worry, his own fears, starting to rise up.

He still couldn’t make himself say anything.

The elevator dinged a few moments later and Hunk directed him off, Lance still pressed flush to his side, and into a hallway lined with an elegant purple and black swirled carpet runner.

The guest wing.

Hunk paused them in front of a door with a sign that Lance didn’t quite catch before it slid open as Hunk waved a hand in front of the keypad and then they were entering a bedroom.

Lance knew immediately it was supposed to be his.

It was done in purple and black decor but hangings in red were draped over the bed. Sitting atop the comforter was a folded set of pajamas in red and purple with a pair of matching slippers below.

A chair that likely belonged at the low vanity had been pulled out, was sitting angled and facing the bed.

Lance gasped.

_Dios._

Slippers.

The note from before.

Unlocked door.

_“You are just down the hall after all.”_

Red.

_“Simply wearing a color doesn’t mean anything, now does it, Red Paladin?”_

Purple.

_“I am liking this purple color on you best.”_

Chair.

Watching while he slept.

_“What do you say to a game, Lance?”_

Oh _Dios._

“Lance?” Hunk sounded.

“I’m…” Lance swallowed thickly, tasting acid bile.

_“Let’s have some fun.”_

“I’m…”

_“Until we meet again.”_

Lance vomited.

It tasted awful; dinner and desserts and far far too much punch and that nearly bitter alcohol he should never have drank.

It tasted like failure.

It made him heave again, throat and eyes burning.

“Whoa, whoa,” Hunk murmured. “Easy, _hermano._ C’mon, here we go.”

Hunk moved then, nearly carrying him, away from the mess he’d made on the carpet. Their feet hit tile and a bright light seared his scrunched closed eyes and Lance realized they were in an ensuite bathroom. He was lowered to his knees next to the toilet and Lance reached out for it, wrapping his arms about the bowl and pressing a suddenly sweaty forehead against the cool metal.

Hunk knelt next to him, a large hand rubbing circles on his back.

Lance vomited again, stomach still roiling and it was getting harder and harder to breathe.

He realized a tick later he actually couldn’t draw a breath.

Metal pressed tightly against his heaving neck.

Collar.

Toy.

Lotor’s.

_“It absolutely is a perfect fit.”_

Off.

He had to get it off.

His hands scrambled for his neck, for the clasp to the collar.

He couldn’t find it.

He couldn’t find it he couldn’t find it he couldn’t find it.

He dug his nails into the back of his neck, scratching, scrambling, _anything._

Get it off get it off get it off.

“Lance! Lance, stop, _hermano—”_

“Off,” Lance choked out. “Get it off.”

_Fingers brushing his neck, hands wrapping about it, strangling him, silencing him, “can you stop me?”_

He couldn’t breathe.

_Dios Dios Dios._

Get it _off._

_“Can you do anything?”_

Another set of hands were there then, large and warm and gentle even in their urgency.

“Okay, okay, just a tick, hold on, it’s okay, it’s okay.”

Lance let out a low moan.

There was the barest click of a latch being undone and then there was _air_ as the collar released and Lance felt Hunk pull it off and toss it away, metal clanking as it bounced on the tiled floor.

He dissolved into noisy, strangled sobs.

He needed to stop.

He couldn’t.

He couldn’t even explain why he was crying like this.

Hunk’s arms wrapped about him from the side and Lance found himself being guided away from the toilet and cuddled against Hunk’s chest.

Warm.

Safe.

Lance cried harder, hands fisting in Hunk’s tunic.

It reminded him of when Hunk had retrieved him from Lotor’s med bay.

He’d been helpless then.

Scared.

He was moreso now.

They were going to find out.

How could he hide this?

He’d failed.

Lotor had won.

Again.

They were going to see how weak, how pathetic, he was.

He wasn’t going to be a Paladin anymore.

He sobbed harder.

“Lance, Lance, shh, it’s okay, it’s okay,” Hunk soothed.

Lance shook his head where he had it pressed against Hunk’s chest.

No.

It wasn’t okay.

Nothing about this was okay.

Hunk didn’t say anything else but make little soothing noises as he gently rocked Lance back and forth and his one hand kept up a steady circle on his back.

The minutes ticked by.

Gradually Lance felt his trembling start to run its course, tears no longer stinging his eyes.  Hunk must have noticed the change too as he shifted slightly with a soft groan as no doubt the pins and needles that Lance was aware of in his own feet and calves from where they were bunched beneath him were plaguing Hunk too.

Guilt flared hot and heavy.

“ _Lo siento,”_ he mumbled into Hunk’s tunic that was stained now with tears and drippage from his nose.

He’d ruined that too.

“Nothing to apologize for, _hermano,”_ Hunk said gently. “You all right to get up though? Rinse out your mouth?”

And now that Hunk said that Lance was aware of the stale taste of acid bile, of the remnants of the feast, and he lightly gagged.

“I’ll take that as a yes,” Hunk said although there was no humor in the words.

He just sounded sad.

 _“Lo siento,”_ Lance apologized again.

He didn’t know what else to do.

He didn’t know how to fix this.

He didn’t think he could.

Hunk just let out a soft sigh and lowered his arms from around Lance and slowly got to his feet.

Lance remained on the floor and brought his own arms about himself in a hug.

He must look like a child huddled there.

He pressed his face into his knees so he didn’t have to see.

The toilet flushed behind him and then there was the sound of the sink running.

“Lance,” Hunk called and Lance forced himself to lift his head, coming face to face with a cup of water. “Swish and spit back in the cup,” Hunk instructed as Lance reached a shaking hand out for it.

He did so, wincing but feeling relieved as he expelled the gummy contents.

Hunk took it, rinsed it well, and filled it halfway with fresh water. “Drink?”

_Water was forced down his throat, cold and biting, and a purple hand held his nose and mouth closed._

_“Drink,” came the command. “You chose this.”_

Lance whimpered.

Hunk’s eyes widened and he hurriedly pulled the cup away.

And although Lance had thought he’d cried himself out apparently not as the world turned blurry in front of him before he hid his face away again.

“Oh, Lance,” Hunk murmured.

He said nothing else but Lance felt an arm wrap about his back and another prod at the crease beneath his knees before wedging itself under and then lifting him up with no effort from the ground.

It was nothing like Lotor’s holds.

Lance found his fingers twisting once more in Hunk’s now beyond ruined tunic and pressing the crown of his head against Hunk’s chest.

Safe.

He didn’t want to ever let go.

He couldn’t see where they were going but he sensed they exited the bathroom and then there was the sound of a door hissing open.

Hallway?

Hunk shifted the hand beneath his knees a few moments later, there was the beep of a keypad, and they were stepping through another door.

Lance pried his face free.

Yellow awnings greeted him.

They were in Hunk’s apparent guest room.

Lotor…

Lotor couldn’t find him here.

Safe.

Lance let out a shuddering breath as Hunk carried him over to the large bed and lowered him down.

Lance curled up into a ball and he felt the bed sink as Hunk climbed up next to him.

He still said nothing.

He was waiting for Lance.

Lance felt his stomach twist again although he had nothing left in it to expel.

Hunk knew something was wrong.

As if vomiting and crying uncontrollably wasn’t enough of a giveaway the fact that Hunk had intercepted him at the party with Lotor said it all.

Lance wondered how he ever thought he could have hidden this from Hunk.

He’d been so stupid.

And…

And if he’d just said something after the first time then…

Then he’d have never gone to the Galra base. Lotor would never have cared for him.

He’d have never fallen even further.

This was his fault.

 _Dios,_ he was so pathetic.

Lotor was right. He didn’t deserve to be a Paladin.

“Lance,” Hunk’s hand landed gently on his raised shoulder. “ _Habláme. Por favor. ¿Qué ocurre?”_

Lance gave the barest shake of his head.

“Lance, _please,”_ Hunk pleaded. “You’re scaring me, _hermano.”_

“ _No… no puedo,”_ Lance whispered.

He couldn’t.

Hunk would tell Allura who’d tell Shiro and…

And…

The names swirled in a nauseating circle.

Hunk to Allura to Shiro.

And then it would come back to him.

And then it’d be over.

No more Paladin.

No more Voltron.

They wouldn’t want him anymore.

But…

But the thought of Lotor coming near him again, of having to play another game…

Lance choked on a new sob.

He couldn’t do it anymore.

The next time…

He had no far how Lotor was willing to go.

Didn’t know what he would do now.

Didn’t know what he _wanted._

And Lance couldn’t stop him.

Not with words, not with force.

And...

And he couldn’t lie to himself any more.

He was _terrified_ of Lotor.

At this point he was honestly more terrified of Lotor than of losing his status as a Paladin.

But…

But it was more than that now.

Lotor was important to the Coalition. He was an _ally._ Lance couldn’t afford to let his own personal feelings take precedence over the fate of the universe.

But Lotor...

He could feel hellfire kisses then pressed to his face, searing hands trailing over his flesh and a ghost of fangs nipping at his ear.

That…

That might be only the beginning.

He didn’t know if he could take any more.

But… but he had to. He had to keep playing Lotor’s games because the universe couldn’t afford for him not to.

What…

What did that mean for him? What would Lotor _do?_

“Do… do you want me to get Shiro?” Hunk asked quietly, squeezing his shoulder and interrupting the sickening circle of thoughts.

Lance stiffened.

What?

No.

Absolutely not.

“No,” he managed. “N-no.”

“Allura?”

He flinched.

No.

Not Allura either.

“Coran?” Hunk put out.

Lance’s eyes widened.

He hadn’t even thought about Coran. The older man was far more than the goofy persona he typically showcased and Lance had gone to Coran plenty of times before; to talk of home and hear stories of Altea when he was feeling so homesick that he couldn’t sleep, for an encouraging word after a hard mission or grueling training session.

But he didn’t want to tell Coran either.

He didn’t want to tell _anyone._

“I’m getting Coran,” Hunk decided in the silence and he shifted, bed dipping.

Lance lurched to a sit, reaching out and clinging to Hunk’s arm, pressing his forehead against the large limb.

“No,” he whispered. “No.”

“Then talk to me _,”_ Hunk pleaded. “ _Por favor, habláme._ What… what did Lotor _do?”_

Lance stiffened at the sound of the name.

Hunk knew.

He’d known that Hunk had suspected but this confirmed it.

 _Dios,_ he was so stupid.

“I… I _can’t,”_ Lance tried one last time even though he knew he was out of excuses, out of lies.

Out of time.

“I c-can’t,” he repeated, hands white-knuckled.

“Why not?” Hunk asked softly.

Lance shook his head, the tunic rough against his face.

“What did Lotor do?” the question was asked just as gently. “Lance, please, I… I want to help. Please. Please, _hermano._ I won’t tell Allura or Shiro, okay? Just us. Just me. _Please.”_

Lance knew it wouldn’t be that simple though. Hunk might say that but there was no way he would be able to keep this quiet. Hunk was kind, one of the kindest people Lance had ever met, and with that came a protective streak that Lance had always found a huge comfort in.

Not now.

Because there was no way Hunk would take this quietly and keep it to himself even if Lance begged him to, for the sake of the Coalition.

But even knowing that…

He couldn’t lie about it any longer.

Not to Hunk.

Not to his best friend, his brother, who Lance knew only wanted to help. And… and he had said he wouldn’t tell Allura and Shiro so…

So…

 _Dios,_ where did he even start? What did he _say?_

 _“_ _You say_ nothing _because you cannot say_ anything.”

No. That wasn’t…

_“And so you are nothing… except entertainment.”_

Entertainment.

Toy.

His toy.

He… he knew where to start.

Maybe.

Oh _Dios._

“He…” Lance swallowed thickly, feeling Hunk stiffen as he spoke, his free arm rising to grip at Lance’s shoulder.

_Dios._

He was actually doing this.

“He… he calls me…”

The words were mumbled against Hunk’s arm but Lance knew that Hunk was hearing them loud and clear.

“...his…”

This was it.

_Dios._

What was he doing?

He had to stop.

The Coalition…

The alliance.

He couldn’t stop.

“His toy,” Lance finished, last word a breath.

It hung heavy in the air.

Hunk’s hand that Lance wasn’t clinging to tightened on his shoulder.

“What?”

It came out a whisper, both hard and angry and concerned and soft and _scared_ and _confused_ all rolled into one syllable.

“His toy,” Lance repeated.

He couldn’t look at Hunk.

“His toy,” Hunk echoed. “Lance… wh-what… what does that…?” Lance heard him swallow. “What does that _mean?”_

Lance’s stomach clenched at the sheer _fear_ coming from Hunk.

Fear that he had put there.

This had been a mistake.

He shouldn’t have said anything.

“N-nothing,” Lance shook his head. “Noth—”

“No, no don’t do that,” Hunk interrupted. “Lance, no. Talk to me. Please. Please, _hermano. Habaláme._ ”

Lance opened his mouth to deny it all again because he _had_ to...

And found that he couldn’t.

Not anymore.

“His toy,” Lance said again. “Games. He plays games. With me. And I, I don’t _want_ to, but… but…” Lance could feel his voice growing higher and faster with clogged tears. “He, he says I’m not the Red Paladin. And he’s right. I can’t do anyth-thing. And he, he…” Lance shuddered. “He, he touches me. And, and,” the next word a whisper, “k-kisses. And I tell him to st-stop and he _won’t._ And I… he…” he hiccuped on a sob. “I _can’t,”_ he protested, not sure what it was he was trying to say. _“_ I’m sorry. _Lo siento, lo siento._ I c-can’t.”

What was he doing?

He needed to stop.

“Lance,” Hunk’s voice was low, a thrum, _dangerous_ in its intensity, and the hand tightened around his shoulders. “Did he hurt you?”

Lance shuddered.

“Lance—”

“I… I don’t know,” Lance finally whispered.

Lotor hadn’t.  Not really.

“There’s no marks. N-nothing. So, so…”

“Did he hurt you?” The question was just as intense as before.

Lance just shook his head, hot tears stinging tightly closed eyes.

He knew Hunk didn’t believe him. He… he wasn’t sure he believed himself either.

“Did he… did he,” Hunk’s hand tightened, Lance heard him swallow. “The touches,” he settled on and Lance trembled. “Did he… were they…?”

“I don’t know,” Lance repeated. “N-no? M-maybe? He… he never, b-but, he… he…”

He had insinuated to doing something more. He had trailed still unwelcome hands over his chest, stomach, thighs, even his face and neck. Pressed lips to his cheek, his forehead, _licked_ his ear and cheek. His eyes had watched, taken pleasure in seeing Lance uncomfortable and exposed and _scared._

The intent was there, whether Lotor had an actual interest in him or it was just for his amusement. Lance leaned towards the latter, as Lotor had made it very clear his feelings for Allura, but in the end it didn’t really matter.

Lance was just a game to Lotor.

His toy.

“And… and the kisses?” Hunk barely whispered the last word.

Lance trembled. “Not… not… not lips. Just, on my face. H-head.”

Hand now too.

“How long?” Hunk asked, changing direction and Lance was grateful to escape even the memory of that searing sensation.

“Since… since he… in the castle…”

Somehow Hunk was able to piecemeal it together. “Since he had free reign in the castle?” Hunk nodded. “Lance, that was… that was over a month ago. Almost two. All… all this time?”

At that Lance shook his head. “No. Not… not the entire time.”

But enough.

Hunk sucked in a harsh breath. “When you were sick,” and he sounded _horrified,_ “did Lotor— He did,” Hunk answered his own question. “That’s why, when, when I got there you… Oh, Lance. He didn’t even take care of—”

“He did,” Lance cut in, not sure why he was even trying to defend Lotor in the slightest. “He, he did help me. He just…it was a game to him. A-all of it.”

And he’d let Lotor play with him.

He’d let Lotor break him.

He apparently was just a broken toy.

Allura would never want him. Voltron didn’t need him. There was no place for broken things.

“Lance,” Hunk’s voice broke. “Why didn’t you say something?”

It wasn’t accusatory, not in the slightest.

It was sad.

Hurt.

“I’m sorry,” Lance whispered, voice small.

He couldn’t even begin to explain why.

“No, no, no apologies,” Hunk denied. “This… this isn’t your fault. _None_ of this is your fault.”

“It’s _all_ my fault,” Lance choked out. “I… I _let_ him, Hunk. I… I just… I wanted to be a Paladin.”

“You _are_ a Paladin,” Hunk said. “Lance, _hermano,”_ and Lance felt his body being pushed back and then Hunk’s hand was lighting on his chin and tipping it up. “ _Miráme,_ ” Hunk commanded gently and Lance tentatively lifted blurry eyes up.

Equally tear-filled ones looked at him.

“You _are_ a Paladin,” Hunk said, not breaking eye contact. “An _amazing_ one.”

“I’m a fill in,” Lance whispered, gaze darting to the side. “Just, just until Keith comes back.”

“Bull,” Hunk nearly swore and Lance was so surprised he looked back to Hunk. “That’s baloney, Lance. Who said you were a fill in? Who—”

Hunk cut himself off.

“Lotor,” he breathed. “He said that to you.”

Lance could see the confusion as to the _why_ tightening Hunk’s brow.

“A game,” Lance pushed out, words barely audible.

He didn’t know why he kept talking.

He needed to _stop._

He couldn’t.

The words needed to come out.

“He… he was bored, I think,” Lance continued in a whisper. “He… he started following me. Saying things like that. Anything to, to get a reaction. And I…” Lance let out a laugh mixed with a sob. “I kept… kept failing. He’d touch me and say things and… and tell me it they were a compliment.”

“Lance…”

“And, and I couldn’t tell anyone. If, if they knew what I let him do then…” He shook his head ever so. “I was weak. I _am_ weak. And pathetic. And, and if Allura and Shiro found out—”

“Found out that Lotor has been _hurting_ you?” Hunk interrupted.

“It’s not like that—”

“It is, Lance! He hurt you!”

“I let him!”

The words rang sickly in the quiet.

“I let him,” Lance said again, a whisper from the near shriek. “I l-let him, Hunk. I tried to stop him and it didn’t work and he wouldn’t _listen_ and he said if they found out they’d be ashamed of me and he’s _right_ because what kind of Paladin would let someone _do_ that to them and I messed up and—”

“Lance, no,” Hunk tried to interject.

“—and Allura _loves_ him and she would never believe me, not now, and I messed up and I know I should have said something earlier but I didn’t and everyone trusts him now and, and the alliance needs his support and it’s fine, it’s fine—”

“Lance—”

“—because nothing happened since he didn’t do anything and there’s no proof and nothing happened and I’m _fine_ and the alliance needs him and it’s okay and, and… and…”

Lance petered out, not even sure what he was trying to say anymore, chest heaving from the deluge.

“Lance—”

“And you can’t tell,” Lance said, words quick and swift and he darted his gaze up to Hunk’s. “You said you wouldn’t. You can’t tell. You can’t.”

He sounded like a child.

“You c-can’t,” he repeated again, fingers tightening in Hunk’s tunic.

“I won’t,” Hunk said after a moment and Lance felt both a surge of relief and a sick twist of hurt even though this was what he’d wanted and pleaded for.

“But,” Hunk said, “you need to.”

Lance jerked his head up.

“N-no. I—”

“Lance, listen to me, _por favor,”_ Hunk said. “ _Listen._ Do… do you really think if Allura knew what Lotor was doing that she’d _love_ him? That she’d even _like_ him? What… what he’s doing is _wrong_. And he knows it. He knows it, _hermano._ And Allura would _never_ approve.”

“But…” Lance shook his head.

That meant…

That meant he’d…

He’d let Lotor do those things, say those things, for…

For _nothing._

Not to keep his role as a Paladin.

Not to keep the coalition from splintering.

Nothing.

That…

That couldn't be right.

Because it meant he’d been _wrong._

So, so wrong.

“But,” Lance whispered again.

How could he have been so _stupid?_

He’d messed up.

He’d acknowledged he’d messed up before. Badly.

But this…

No.

Hunk was wrong. He was wrong. Allura would be disappointed in him. Ashamed.

Just like Lotor had said.

Lance repeated those words over.

He paled.

_Dios._

He… he’d…

He’d _convinced_ himself, starting as far back as when Lotor had invaded his room the first time, had _licked_ his hand, that… that Allura and Shiro would be ashamed of _him_ if they found out he’d been incapable of handling the Galran. That despite the fact Lotor was older, bigger, _stronger,_ it would be he, Lance, they found fault with because he was a Paladin and should be capable of doing at least that much.

But…

But Lotor was a prince, now an emperor.

And…

And Lotor had used that position to…

And Lance…

Lance had kept quiet and then the lies kept building and building until he had convinced himself that those initial feelings of shame were all that existed, that they would never believe him because…

Because _why?_ Because Lotor was an ally?

But… but he was their ally too. He was a _Paladin._ The Red Lion had chosen _him_ even if he had been the only option left. If he hadn’t been worthy then he wouldn’t have been accepted at all, right? And, and even if they hadn’t wanted to believe that of Lotor, even if he had no actual physical proof…

Why had he been so convinced they wouldn’t believe him? Allura wasn’t like that. Neither was Shiro. They _cared._

And he’d…

He’d really messed up.

Lance choked on a sob.

“I messed up,” he choked out. “Hunk, I… I r-really—”

His words turned into a sob and second later Hunk was gathering him into his arms, tucking Lance’s head below his chin, and hands rubbing his back.

“Lotor is the one who messed up,” Hunk said softly. “Not you. He… he hurt you. He took advantage of you.”

Hunk was speaking as though he and Lotor had been together in an abusive relationship.

Lance faintly wondered if they had been.

_“What do you want us to be?”_

Lance shuddered.

“He was wrong,” Hunk continued, his chest rumbling below Lance’s head. “He knew what he was doing was wrong. Calling you a, a _toy,_ was…” Lance felt Hunk swallow. “That’s… That’s _horrible_. That’s wrong. That… that isn’t how one treats an ally, which… which I thought we were with Lotor.”

His hands stilled. “You need to tell Allura and Shiro.”

Lance stiffened.

“I can’t,” Lance whispered. “The coa—”

“Screw the coalition,” Hunk bit in, voice hot. “This is about _you_.”

“I can’t,” Lance repeated. “Hunk… the, the universe _needs_ this alliance.”

“Fine,” Hunk said and Lance knew he would see the big picture, would understand. “Fine, so we still work with Lotor and the Galrans _if_ he actually wants to help the universe. But _you_ do not have to suffer for it, Lance. You need to tell them. They need to know.”

And Lance knew Hunk spoke the truth.

He’d known it all along. He just…

Just hadn’t wanted to believe that… that something had happened.

But it had.

And now…

“Do…” Lance swallowed. “Do you think they’d…?”

“Believe you?” Hunk filled in. “Oh, _hermano._ Of course they will.”

And Hunk sounded so _sure_ that it made Lance feel both better and worse.

Hunk had such faith in their team team, their _friends,_ and Lance…

Lance had believed in Lotor, in his own doubts and shame.

If…

If he had just been stronger, hadn’t been so _weak,_ then… then he could have said something when it first started, could have ended this before it even began.

But he hadn’t.

And all he’d done was hurt himself.

Hurt Voltron.

Hurt the Coalition.

Hurt everyone.

“I’ll come with you,” Hunks said into the silence. “It’s going to be okay, Lance. I promise.”

And while Lance knew Hunk couldn’t actually confirm any outcome he felt…

Comforted by the promise.

“T-tonight?” he whispered, dread coiling in him.

“No, not tonight,” Hunk said. “Not here.”

Lance let out a shuddering breath of relief to put it off for a little while longer even though…

Even though he knew deep down that Hunk was right.

He needed to speak.

He needed to fix this.

At least for Allura, at least so she didn’t become Lotor’s new toy, his new game.

He didn’t know if there was any coming back from this for him.

But…

But he’d messed up.

And this was the only way to try and make it better.

“Tomorrow, back at the castle,” Hunk murmured. “Tonight… tonight you stay right here with me, okay? _No one_ is going to hurt you here. I swear it. I promise, _hermano._ You’re safe here.”

“Hunk, I…” he sniffled, rubbing his head on Hunk’s shirt. “ _Gr-gracias.”_

“Thank you,” Hunk echoed. “For trusting me with this.”

Trust.

But this time…

The word rang true.

Lance nodded, fingers tightening in the tunic, Hunk’s heart a steady thump beneath his head.

And right there, in that moment despite being on Lotor’s base with his own chambers just down the hall...

Lance finally felt safe.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Dios_ , this chapter got a bit away from me but there was no good place to chop it so… 6k words, go :D It’s been a moment a long time coming though and sometimes, as hard as it is, having someone else say what you know to be true deep down is the push needed to act on it yourself. Lance has so thoroughly convinced himself that if anyone were to find out it would be he who would be shamed for his actions when in truth it’s the opposite. Also on the note of chapter chopping, I did halve the final chapter so this fic is officially seven now instead of six.
> 
> I’m super super proud of this chapter; two scenes here are what prompted the entire fic. I hope you enjoyed it as much and if you did please do leave a comment. I could definitely use a little love this week. It’s been… something. And hey, maybe you’ll get another quick update out of it :)
> 
> Also real quick, given the response to my drawing for Lance’s outfit I went ahead and [drew Pidge’s so we could see the dress!](http://icypantherwrites.tumblr.com/post/181748481089/whats-this-its-pidge-and-i-preface-this-is-my) And user thefevertrope also [designed Lance’s outfit and it’s lovely](https://thefevertrope.tumblr.com/post/181764456964/i-finally-finished-my-interpretation-of) so take a look if you’re so inclined ♥


	4. Four

Lance awoke to the quiet murmur of voices and a hand carding through his hair.

He stiffened at that and the conversation cut off.

“Lance?” came a louder but still gentle whisper and Lance felt himself relax.

Hunk.

Hunk’s voice, Hunk’s hand.

But…

But someone else was here—

“Easy, easy,” Hunk said. “It’s just Pidge.”

And while Pidge was better than say, Allura, right now…

_Dios._

What had Hunk told her?

Lance shot to sitting, barely missing hitting his head against Hunk’s chin as he leaned over, eyes darting about the room.

Black and silver and purple draperies with yellow.

Hunk’s room at Lotor’s base.

Hunk was sitting on the bed, between Lance and the door, where he’d curled up last night and finally fallen asleep to Hunk petting his hair and constant soft murmurs that he was safe and Hunk was there and wasn’t going anywhere.

He was still in his dress clothes from before although he’d taken off the cape and white tunic and its belt leaving him in the red long-sleeved skintight undershirt that he told himself was fine, it was just like his undermor suit but in red and with a deeper neckline and it was just Hunk and no Lotor, and yanked off his boots to finish his sleep ensemble although Hunk had changed into the provided pajamas. Hunk had offered to go to Lance’s guest room to retrieve his but Lance and clung to him and begged for him not to leave because, as ridiculous as it was, if Hunk left, even for a minute, Lance was afraid Lotor was going to walk in. He didn’t know what would happen, but… but he didn’t want to be alone for even a moment and he couldn’t stomach the thought of returning to that staged room with its pulled out chair and waiting slippers and a whisper of, _“You are just down the hall.”_ He’d take sleeping in his gala outfit over any of the other options.

Pidge was sitting cross-legged in the chair that belonged at the vanity, pulled up to the side of the bed.

Lance tried to will his heart out of his throat at the proximity of the chair to the bed because it was Pidge and Pidge hadn’t been watching him sleep (well, she had, but it wasn’t like that) and everything was fine, he was fine, he was _safe._

“Morning,” Pidge greeted, raising a hand, and also in pajamas. Her glasses were missing and without the cover Lance got a clear view of her eyes and the calculating, probing look that was only equaled out by the sheer _concern_ he saw directed at him.

Lance swallowed thickly.

“Hunk hasn’t told me anything,” Pidge continued, holding his gaze. “But I can infer a few things on my own. That said,” her face softened, “are you okay?”

“I’m fine.”

Pidge raised an eyebrow in clear disbelief.

Lance looked away, fingers twining into one another and feeling his cheeks heat under her scrutiny.

Pidge huffed out a sigh and a moment later the bed dipped as she clambered on. Lance winced lightly as she crossed over his legs, hidden beneath the comforter, before coming up on his right and pressing herself to his side.

“We don’t have to talk about it,” she said, resting her head on his shoulder and Lance felt Hunk shift to wrap an arm about his back and come up around Pidge. “But I’m going to say this. Lotor, no matter if he’s helping us or not, is a jerk and an asshole and I’ve never liked him. He’s a manipulative son of a bitch and he uses people. I’m sure he’s using Voltron, I just haven’t figured out how yet. He’s probably going to use Allura and,” her voice lowered, “and he used you, Lance. He used your trust and that stupidly big heart of yours that cares too much about others and not enough about _you._ And he hurt you. That is not okay. And,” her voice lowered, darkened, “he will regret it.”

Lance felt an odd mixture of comforted, relieved, scared and disturbed by Pidge’s words and tone.

But…

“No,” he said quietly.

“No?” Pidge repeated, eyes flashing.

“I don’t want you… want you getting caught up in this.”

“Bullshit,” Pidge snapped. “Lotor messes with one of us he messes with all of us. And you,” she poked him, _hard,_ “are done trying to do the solo hero martyr thing. Uh uh,” she said as Lance opened his mouth, “don’t even deny it. I don’t know details but I know you, Lance. You don’t like to see people hurt even at the expense of yourself.”

Lance’s mouth snapped shut.

“You’re also a bit of an idiot, and I mean that as kindly as possible, if you honestly think whatever mind fuckery Lotor is playing is your fault. You’re a _good_ person, Lance. One of the best. And Lotor? Lotor _isn’t._ And you are not going to feel bad for being good.”

Lance gave the barest shake of his head even as he felt something warm unfurling in his chest the sheer love coming through Pidge’s words.

“I… I could have stopped this,” he said quietly. “Before… before it got to… to _this.”_

“Maybe,” Pidge gave a tiny shrug. “But honestly? Probably not. And you know why?”

Lance was almost afraid to ask.

“Because you look for the best in people. You want to believe there is good in everyone, even assholes like Lotor. Even when you didn’t trust him you trusted Allura and Shiro and… and, well, they let you down.”

“That’s not fair,” Lance protested quietly. “I… I never said anything, and… Lotor, he…”

“Has a gift of gab?” Hunk put in without any humor.

“That,” Pidge said. “He’s got a way with words and spinning things in his favor. He’s got Allura smitten” — Lance winced and fortunately neither one called him on it — “and Shiro is his BFF. He has them seeing what he wants and so maybe, okay, they’re not entirely to blame, but… but even _I_ saw you acting weird when Lotor gave you the necklace and if _I_ saw it then what does that say about them?”

Lance wasn’t sure.

Pidge was very observant but that tended to expand more to technology and code, not people.

It just made him flinch though that he’d been so transparent even when he’d been trying so hard.

“Hey,” Pidge elbowed him, “I’m _glad_ you couldn’t cover it up because otherwise…” her voice grew quieter, “otherwise… I don’t know what Lotor is capable of doing but… but I don’t want to see you hurt any more.”

“Pidge…”

“It’s true,” Hunk said softly. “I… I knew something was strange after your bout with the flu, but… but you didn’t want to talk about it and I was trying to respect your privacy and let you come to me, but… but Pidge is right. When Lotor gave you that necklace… and then when I saw you on the dance floor… I, I don’t think anyone who didn’t know you would have seen it but, Lance… you looked _scared._ And I couldn’t wait anymore.”

_“Lo siento.”_

“Ugh, no, no apologies,” Pidge elbowed him again and Lance thought he might have a bruise forming there. “That’s not the point of this. The point is that we’re worried about you. _For_ you. And… and no matter what it is in the future I hope you can talk to us. Or just Hunk. Or maybe Coran. But… but don’t do this. Don’t hide away when you’re hurt. I… I hope you know that we — I — love you no matter what,” and pink was dusting her cheeks, “and none of us want to see you in pain. Okay?”

“...I really am stupid,” Lance murmured.

“Lance—” Pidge’s voice was hot.

“For not, not talking to you guys before,” Lance continued. “For thinking that… for believing _Lotor. Dios,_ I…” He pressed a hand over his mouth to contain the sob he couldn’t fully explain trying to come out.

“You’re not stupid, _hermano,”_ Hunk said, bending his head down so his forehead was pressed against the side of Lance’s. “Never. We… we _all_ fell for Lotor’s lies.”

Lance appreciated what Hunk was trying to say, to include them all in this mess. But he knew this was mostly on him. Him and his stupid self worth and self image issues that no matter what he did, no matter how far he came, he always found himself falling short. Lotor had seen that vulnerability and ripped it wide open and Lance hadn’t even seen it happening.

He’d been so stupid.

He—

A knock sounded on the door.

Lance startled and to his embarrassment felt his heart pick up tempo instantly, pounding away inside his chest.

Who would it be? Lotor? It was Hunk’s room so he might have knocked here. Allura? Shiro? _Dios,_ he wasn’t ready to talk to either of them.

“I’ve got it,” Hunk said, arm sliding from around Lance’s shoulders as he maneuvered himself off the bed. He paused though, reaching out and squeezing Lance’s hands clasped in his lap over the blanket. “It’s going to be okay,” he said softly.

“We’re not going anywhere,” Pidge said from his side and her arms shifted to wrap about Lance’s right. It felt vaguely like being strangled by a koala but Lance found it comforting and managed a nod.

Hunk crossed the room and hit the release for the door.

A Galran soldier stood in the doorway, face plate removed and showing the faintest inkling of concern on her face.

Lance was reminded strongly then that not all Galrans were like Lotor. They _did_ have allies here, they did have Galrans who wanted an end to the fighting and war too.

He needed to remember that.

“Yellow Paladin,” she greeted, “good morning.”

“Good morning,” Hunk said evenly.

Her gaze moved past Hunk where she could no doubt easily see both Lance and Pidge and her eyes widened.

“Red and Green Paladins,” she inclined her head, before her gaze focused on Lance. “Red Paladin, is everything all right?”

Lance stilled.

What?

What did she—?

“I responded to your quarters this morning and when you did not answer I proceeded inside and found what I believe to be human body fluids near the entranceway. Do you require medical assistance? We—”

“No,” Lance interrupted, voice higher than he’d like as his cheeks reheated. He’d completely forgotten he’d vomited in his room last night. “No, that’s, that’s okay. I’m okay. But, um, thank you.”

He never wanted to go to the Galran medical bay again.

She nodded. “In that case, I would like to extend a formal invitation to breakfast. Emperor Lotor is dining with—”

“We’re not going,” Pidge said bluntly.

“It is for all of his majesty’s overnight—”

“We’re not going,” Pidge repeated. “And you can tell your emperor—”

“Thank you, but we decline,” Lance cut in and he could feel Pidge’s glare narrow on him.

“I see,” the soldier said slowly. “Would you be acceptable then to breakfast being sent to the Yellow Paladin’s chambers?”

“We’d appreciate that, thanks,” Hunk said as his stomach gave a loud rumble audible across the room.

“Very well. I shall see it done. I leave these items then here for you to dress in at your choosing.”

And after handing Hunk a stacked bundle, in which Lance caught a glimpse of red, yellow and green, the Galran gave a short bow and then left.

“What was that?” Pidge turned on Lance as Hunk rejoined them, setting the clothes on the vanity (and Lance hadn’t realized until just now that he didn’t have any actual clothes except for his gala outfit, rumpled and stained with tears, other than the provided pajamas and he was _not_ wearing those outside, and _Dios,_ Lotor was going to dress them (dress him) again?).

“She’s not the enemy, Pidge,” Lance said quietly around the churning thought as he shoved away the last time Lotor had actively clothed him, hands skimming along heated flesh prickled with dread and quiet chuckles of amusement. “And… and neither is Lotor.”

It hurt to say but it was true. Lotor, for now at least, no matter what long game he might be playing and no matter what he’d done to him (and Lance had to fight back the immediate thought that nothing had happened), was an ally and his people were therefore allies too.

“I hate politics,” was all Pidge said, sitting back with a huff.

Lance let out a chuckle without any humor.

He completely agreed.

He used to like the diplomacy aspects of being a Paladin, of helping smooth things over and find peaceful solutions. But the longer they were up here the more he was seeing that for as many inherently _good_ people and races there were, like the Olkari, there were far too many who were in it for a price or stipulations.

The fact Lotor had joined them, offered all of his available resources without any sort of proviso, had been welcome at first but now it just worried Lance. That much power always came with a price.

It, he was starting to fear, was another play just like his illness had been (and if it hadn’t been insane he’d almost have thought Lotor orchestrated his bout of the flu but that… that was crazy, right?), a way to show Allura how _kind_ and _caring_ Lotor was in a bid to impress her, to bring her even more to his side.

It was working too.

Which was why no matter Hunk’s assurances that Allura would believe him if he spoke of Lotor’s… behavior, that it would not be that easy. It was his word against Lotor’s and even with his and Allura’s longer history…

She had Lotor’s love.

He had no idea how it was going to go.

But Hunk was right. Allura did need to know.

And she should. He…

He didn’t want her to get hurt if (when, although despite his own personal reservations he prayed not for the sake of the universe, for the sake of peace) Lotor betrayed them.

A not quite comfortable silence fell upon the room then and Lance knew he was the cause of it.

He wanted to say something to break it, but talking about something else felt like he was avoiding it and talking about _it_ made his stomach curl.

“How about we all get ready?” Hunk suggested into the quiet, giving a nod to the clothes. “Dressed, maybe a shower, and just be ready for when the others are so we can leave.”

Lance liked that plan. He didn’t want to wear anything else Lotor provided but no matter what it was going to be one of the Galra designed outfits and he’d rather wear something clean over his rumpled, tear-stained dress outfit.

That he’d vomited in.

While he hadn’t gotten anything on his clothes and he had rinsed out his mouth Lance became aware of how… _gross_ he felt. His skin had dried sweat on it, he was pretty sure his cheeks had tear-stains permanently embedded and his hair was flat on one side from where he’d smushed his head against Hunk all night.

And no doubt Allura was going to want to talk to them (him) about their skipped breakfast and then _it_ would come up and the thought of having that conversation while looking like this made him cringe.

A shower was normally just the ticket to make him feel better and even the forced cold ones Lotor had made him endure — he suppressed the shiver — hadn’t dampened his love for them.

But…

Here?

With Lotor somewhere in the castle, perhaps coming to “check up” on his wayward guests?

“You can shower here, Lance,” Hunk said, large hand descending atop Lance’s that he hadn’t even realized he’d threaded together. “And I’ll watch the door and won’t leave the room for even a second.” Honey eyes met ocean. “Promise.”

Lance gave a slow nod.

If… If Hunk was here, guarding the door, then Lotor… Lotor wouldn’t try anything.

Although _what_ he thought Lotor would do made him both pale and darken.

“A shower sounds nice,” Lance murmured and Hunk smiled gently.

“I’m gonna take a quick one too,” Pidge said. “Be back here in ten.”

“That’s not a shower, that’s a rinse,” Lance said, appalled despite the situation and grateful for it.

“I have short hair,” Pidge defended as she scooched off the bed.

“We _all_ have short hair and my showers do not take ten minutes. You can’t even let the conditioner set after shampooing let alone _dry_ and get _dressed_ in that timeframe.”

“That sounds like a challenge,” Pidge grinned. “Wanna race, Lancey-Lance?”

Lance felt his lips quirk up even as he shook his head. “Absolutely not.”

“Your loss,” Pidge said, grabbing her clothes from the top of the stack. “Don’t cry if we eat all the food by the time you get out an hour later.”

“Hunk won’t let you.”

He didn’t deny the hour mark even though he knew he would never take such a long shower.

Not here.

“I dunno, she’s pretty terrifying when she’s hungry,” Hunk mused. “Those teeth, man… I don’t want to get between them and their prey.”

Pidge flashed a sharp grin. “He knows me.”

“Gremlin,” Lance teased.

“Pretty boy.”

And Lance was relieved when the words slid right off without even a hitch.

“Proud of it,” he said instead, sticking out his tongue around his smile.

Pidge laughed, gave a wave, and slid out the door.

His smile fell some as she disappeared with the light banter and Hunk’s hand, still atop his, gave them a squeeze.

“You okay?”

“I… I don’t know,” Lance admitted softly. “I…” He shook his head.

He really didn’t.

He felt relatively safe right now, calm.

But he knew what was coming.

“Go enjoy the shower,” Hunk said in answer. “We’ll figure everything else out after.”

“ _Gracias,_ Hunk,” Lance whispered.

“Go,” Hunk nudged him with his elbow.

Lance collected the red outfit from the vanity and then made his way for the ensuite bathroom, identical to the one he’d blearily observed in his own guest quarters: toilet, sink with a decent counter and a huge mirror above it and then the shower.

This one had a curtain.

Lance set the tap to the hottest it would go and stripped out of the dress clothes, eyes flicking without permission to the mirror.

Not a mark on him.

Not from the collar, from Lotor’s grip on his hip. Not an indication of where a kiss had been pressed to his hand, where fingers had intertwined with his own.

Nothing.

No proof.

Nothing happ—

Lance cut the denial off.

No.

Something _had_ happened. Hunk and Pidge believed him.

Allura and Shiro would too.

And…

And hopefully whatever decision was made wouldn’t condemn the entire universe.

It…

It would be okay.

Lance repeated that mantra to himself as he took a quick for him but still long by Pidge standards shower, scrubbing away all of the sweat and sensation of Lotor’s hands from him with a soap and shampoo that fortunately smelled of nothing that triggered a memory of Lotor but instead was vaguely apple scented.

By the time he emerged, even dressed in the provided outfit of another belted tunic in all red with black pants that banded tight at his ankles and red and black almost slipper-like shoes, he was ready to believe it.

Until he took in Pidge and Hunk, sitting cross-legged on the bed around a tray of what looked like some sort of alien breakfast buffet.

Their outfits were like his although in their colors and Pidge’s pants were form fitted, like leggings, but the glaring difference was that both of theirs featured long-sleeved tunics that had a high collar neckline.

Lance’s was sleeveless with a deep V-neck that dipped more than several inches past his clavicle, exposing part of his chest.

The necklace Lotor had given him would have looked right at home with the cut.

“What the fuck?” Pidge noticed it first, eyes darting between Hunk and Lance for comparison. “He did fucking _not_ just do that.”

“You’re wearing leggings,” Lance said quietly as he joined them on the bed, trying not to wrap his arms about himself even though they were breaking out in goosebumps.

“So?”

“It,” Lance couldn’t meet Pidge’s narrowed gaze, “complements you. You,” he let out a sound that was absolutely not a sob, “should take it as a compliment.”

Pidge’s eyes widened at the realization.

“This is so bullshit,” she muttered. “God, what a mind fuck. Just let me get my bayard, I’ll shove it so far up his—”

Hunk stuffed a biscuit in Pidge’s mouth.

“I’m with you,” he said around her sputtering. “But do we have to be so… vulgar about it?”

Pidge glowered but didn’t refute him.

“Thank you,” Hunk sighed. “Lance,” his face softened. “You look good, _hermano._ Don’t… don’t let Lotor take that away from you.”

“ _Gracias,_ Hunk,” Lance said quietly. “That… that helps.”

And it really did.

He’d pick something like this out himself if he was shopping, although probably in blue, not red, but the color thing aside and Lotor’s teases about it (and at least it _was_ red and not purple) it was a nice outfit and he did look good in it. If he hadn’t known it was from Lotor he would like it.

“Eat,” Pidge gestured at the spread, biscuit finally swallowed. “So then we can get the fuck outta here.”

Lance really wasn’t all that hungry even though his stomach was emptied of all its contents, but he dutifully picked up a biscuit matching the one that Hunk had forced upon Pidge. He only nibbled at it though as if things went badly he’d really like to not puke again and Hunk didn’t push the matter.

“So,” Lance tore off a piece of bread as the room went quiet, “Pidge, um… those Sabodid representatives. You learn anything fun?”

“Oh!” Pidge’s eyes darn near sparkled back behind the cover of her glasses. “Oh my gosh. Their planet is _made_ of technology. They use—” she broke off but Lance waved a hand at her in a continue motion.

“Okay, so they use a pulanium core and combined it with an alkaline compound to—”

Lance stopped following most of the words, getting the gist a few minutes later that whatever this thing was kept their planet in orbit, but Hunk was getting just as excited as Pidge and the two of them were going back and forth debating some science-y thing and Lance was happy to listen.

If he took away the room about them this was just another moment hanging out in the Green Lion’s hangar.

The minutes ticked away and Lance had maneuvered himself to lying on his back, head propped against Hunk’s knee and his feet thrown over Pidge’s legs as they spoke above him, the familiar cadence soothing.

He was nearly in that pleasant almost doze state when a knock came at the door.

And just like that he was fully awake again although to his relief he didn’t startle like the last time even if he still stiffened.

“I’ve got it,” Pidge said that time, easing Lance’s feet off of her after patting them.

Lance sat up, feeling vulnerable lying down, just as she opened the door to reveal the same Galran from before.

“Green Paladin,” she inclined her head. “The other Paladins of Voltron are preparing to depart and I was sent to escort you to the receiving hall.”

“Great,” Pidge chirped and while Lance couldn’t see her face he could picture a sharp smile. “Can you wait just a few ticks?”

Pidge closed the door in the Galran’s face before the she could say anything.

“Pidge,” Lance chided gently at the lack of manners.

“There’s one thing we have to do before we go,” Pidge said, face strangely solemn.

She crossed to her travel bag that had been provided to them and she’d brought into Hunk’s room following her shower and rifled through it.

She emerged holding the green and silver barrette Lotor had gifted her and…

And Lance’s necklace.

He choked on his next breath.

“Went and got it this morning,” she said. “Here, take it.”

“Pidge—”

“Take it,” she insisted, thrusting it at him and Lance wrapped numb fingers around it, hiding the purple stone beneath his fingers.

What was she doing?

“It’s yours,” she told him, voice soft but firm. “You can do with it what you want. You want to keep it? Fine. Sell it? Go for it. Throw it in Lotor’s pointed face? I’d die of happiness.”

“I,” Lance swallowed, the metal cold and yet searing at the same time. “I don’t want it.”

“Then leave it,” Pidge said. “Like this.”

And saying so she dropped her barrette in the middle of the floor.

Discarded.

“Do whatever feels right to you. And this,” she slammed her foot down on the delicate ornament and a sharp snap echoed in the room, “feels right to me.”

A dull _thunk_ followed a second later and Lance traced it to Hunk’s ring, rolling to a stop by the largest broken piece of Pidge’s jewelry.

They…

They were giving up their own gifts, expensive ones for certain, for… for him.

Lance felt tears sting his eyes.

And he dropped the collar.

It bounced once, twice, before coming to rest by the other pieces, the jewels glinting up at him. It was too heavy to break; maybe if he was in his armor but not the flimsy flats this outfit had come with.

Lance still stepped on top of it.

Pidge was right.

This did feel right.

Freeing.

He let out a breath and gave a short nod, stepping past the mess.

“Perfect,” Pidge said, sounding like the cat that got the canary. “Now let’s get out of here.”

And although Lance knew that leaving meant having to talk to Allura and Shiro and facing whatever words and judgment they had…

He was ready to do so.

“Let’s get out of here,” he echoed.

It was time to move on.

To be brave.

To be a Paladin of Voltron.

And he _was_ a Paladin of Voltron.

And now…

Now he was ready.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow you guys. Just wow. The hits were a little lower but your enthusiasm via comments (♥!!!) was off the charts so here, take this chapter, you deserve it. Thank you all so so much. I truly appreciate all of your support for this fic. Also, you may note the upload time. I realize considering I spend a good chunk of my time awake overnight and I know some of you are here with me, be it overnight hours or opposite timezones, I wanted to give you a chance to read it first thing. So enjoy this special overnight update! 
> 
> I hope you all enjoy this chapter. Pidge is a bamf and I love her. Where Hunk is the imposing, silent judging figure she’s all spitfire and attack mode and both of them are fully on the Lance Protection Squad and Lotor better watch himself. Jerkface. Still gotta talk to Allura and Shiro (and yes, this is Kuron!Shiro and I’m very excited :D) and see how this all goes down.
> 
> I’d love to hear from you so please, drop a comment below! Favorite part, scene, dialogue line, feeling, impression, prediction, how much you love Pidge, etc. ;p


	5. Five

He wasn’t ready.

Because it wasn’t just Allura and Shiro and Coran waiting in the receiving hall.

Lotor was there too.

Lance didn’t know why he’d expected any different.

The emperor was dressed in an outfit nearly identical to the ones he had bestowed the members of Voltron although his was black and purple.

It was also sleeveless with a deeper neckline, Lance faintly noted, as was both Shiro and Allura’s, the latter of which showed off the pink and blue jeweled necklace she had apparently decided to wear again.

Lance felt his step falter as she looked at them as they entered and while it wasn’t visible to an outsider Lance could see it in her gaze.

Disappointment.

Lance ducked his head so he didn’t have to meet her eyes nor encounter Lotor’s, who he felt on him even then.

“Good morning, Paladins,” Lotor greeted with what Lance could feel was a smile. “I trust you found breakfast to your liking?”

Trust.

“The company was infinitely better than yours,” Pidge said bluntly and Lance could hear Allura’s sharp intake and he jerked his own head up at the sheer audacity she had while a mixture of awe and horror warred in his chest. “Food wasn’t bad though, if that’s what you’re actually asking,” Pidge continued without missing a beat.

“Pidge!” Shiro snapped. Voice turning contrite he turned to Lotor. “I apologize, she—”

“Knows exactly what she’s saying,” Pidge cut Shiro off and Lance felt himself waver. “I _trust_ you understand how that goes, huh Lotor?”

Lance risked a glance at Lotor and found the Galran’s lips curled up into an amused sneer.

He wasn’t thrown off at all.

“There’s no need to apologize, Shiro,” Lotor said smoothly, purposefully turning away from Pidge’s heated glare. “I have found the best course in dealing with children throwing tantrums is to resolutely ignore them.”

“Child?” Pidge spat, taking a step forward. “I’ll—”

“Enough,” Shiro growled, stepping between Pidge and Lotor. “Pidge, what’s gotten into you?”

She opened her mouth and Shiro shook his head. “No, I don’t want excuses. Get on the Black Lion, we’ll talk when we get back.”

“He—”

“Now, Katie,” Shiro ordered, expression hardset.

Pidge swore beneath her breath and turned in the direction of the parked Black Lion, ramp extended. Lance, legs trembling, turned to follow.

“Lance, Hunk, stay,” Shiro commanded and Lance froze, Hunk bumping into him. “I trust the two of you still know basic manners?”

Trust.

Why did that word get thrown around so… so _carelessly?_

Shiro turned from them before Lance had to stutter out an answer to an apparently rhetorical question and he felt Hunk’s hand grip about his bare upper right arm.

“I do apologize still, Lotor,” Allura’s accented tone sounded so apologetic. “You have been a most gracious host and we have all had a lovely time. Have we not?” Jewel eyes cut over to Lance and Hunk as if daring them to disagree.

To Lance’s horror he felt himself giving a short nod, anything to prevent that disappointed gaze from focusing on him ever again.

It’d be coming soon enough.

All of his earlier bravery was trickling away.

Lotor’s smirk, fang peeking over his lip, made it shrivel further.

“I am so glad to hear it. This was such a special occasion for us all and it has been an honor to be able to share and celebrate it with my closest and most respected allies.”

“The honor was ours,” Allura smiled.

“You flatter me, Princess,” Lotor said, taking Allura’s hand in his and pressing a kiss to the top of it. Allura pinkened.

Lance could feel the grave growing deeper.

How was he supposed to say anything?

“I do hate to depart so soon but I must return to my other guests,” Lotor said and Lance blinked with surprise.

He was actually leaving just like that?

“Do not let us keep you any longer,” Allura said. “We… we shall see each other again soon?”

“I would have it no other way.” Lotor pressed another kiss to Allura’s hand. “Farewell, Princess.”

“Farewell, Emperor,” and the two shared a private smile.

Lance’s stomach threatened to lose the biscuit he’d managed to eat.

Lotor turned to Shiro and took the prosthetic in a firm handshake. “Until later, Shiro.”

“Good bye, Lotor.”

“Coran,” Lotor held out his hand and Coran took it with a firm grip, but…

But there was a furrow to Coran’s brow and his, “good bye, Emperor Lotor,” was lacking in the usual joviality.

Lance wasn’t sure what it meant. Coran could have drunk too much, still nursing a hangover, or…

Or...

And then Lotor was heading for Lance and Hunk and he didn’t have time to puzzle it out.

Hunk’s grip tightened on Lance’s arm, almost painful, but Lance didn’t mind.

It reminded him that he wasn’t alone.

Not this time.

“I do so hate to see you part,” Lotor said and while he did not name anyone specifically that primal purple and yellow gaze was focused directly on Lance. “I always enjoy your company so. Alas, duty calls. But we’ll be in _touch,_ won’t we?”

Lance swallowed, tasting bile in the back of his throat at the enunciation.

Lotor let out a soft laugh and held out a hand towards Hunk. “Yellow Paladin.”

To Lance’s surprise Hunk took it.

But based on the resulting, fleeting wince on Lotor’s face it was not a kind grip.

Lotor ended up having to nearly shake Hunk off, who remained silent the entire time with a hard set to his eyes.

It would have been funny if Lance wasn’t trying so hard not to puke.

He was well aware of Allura and Shiro’s eyes on them and he didn’t want to make a scene here, other Galra milling about and a few other dignitaries boarding their ships across the plaza.

But going along with it was only enforcing Lotor’s side.

What did he do?

“Lance,” Lotor almost purred his name and Lance tried hard not to flinch at the complete tone change.

A purple hand wrapped about his own, almost delicately, and Lotor gave it a squeeze rather than a shake. “A pleasure, as always. Do make sure to take care of yourself.” His thumb caressed the back of Lance’s hand. “You know how much I worry.”

He should say something.

Anything.

_Anything._

His mouth wouldn’t move.

Lotor gave another light laugh, a final squeeze to Lance’s hand, and released him. “Until we meet again.”

Lance stayed frozen as Lotor turned to walk back inside, raising a hand for a final farewell in Allura’s direction.

“Come on,” Hunk murmured and he steered Lance towards the Black Lion and up the ramp. Lance kept his face firmly down to avoid seeing anyone’s reactions to his less than cordial goodbye.

Pidge was already belted in when they boarded and Lance heard her inhale to speak before Shiro cut her off again.

“Not now,” he repeated, settling into Black’s pilot chair. “Reflect on your behavior. _All_ of you,” and Lance could feel the hot charcoal gaze land on him too. “We’ll discuss this when we get back to the castle.”

The short flight back was one of the most awful silences Lance had ever been privy to.

He knew it was going to get even worse.

Hunk’s hand still on his arm was the only thing keeping him from dissolving into panicked gasps.

“Bridge,” Shiro said as Black landed in her hangar with a thump.

“Shiro,” Lance whispered, needing to say something before there was a full audience, before he was _scolded_ like a _child_ when he was already feeling small enough. “I—”

“Bridge,” Shiro punctuated it with a harsh point of a finger and Lance’s mouth clicked shut.

Lance meekly went.

He, Hunk and Pidge ended up standing in a line, himself in the middle, just like at the Garrison while Allura and Coran were off to the side and Shiro stood in front of them, arms crossed and looking for all the world like a commanding officer.

Like Iverson with the scowl to match.

“I’m disappointed in all of you,” he said and Lance felt his heart twist.

His worst nightmare was coming to life.

How…

How was he ever supposed to say anything like this?

“Lance, Hunk, your disappearance from the gala last night was noted,” Shiro turned a hot gaze on them and Lance couldn’t meet it. “It was incredibly rude to not only our host but to our attending allies.”

Before Lance could say anything – but really what was there to say? – Shiro was moving on. “But Pidge, you especially I am disappointed in.” Lance turn slightly to see that unlike himself Pidge had her chin jutted forward and defiance flashing in her eyes. “What you said to Lotor was incredibly disrespectful—”

“ _Disrespectful?”_ Pidge interrupted. “Really? You’re going to go with _disrespectful_ after all that Lotor has done—”

“Exactly,” Shiro snapped. “All that he has done. Lotor is our ally now, _Voltron’s_ ally, and your behavior is unacceptable.”

Pidge looked about ready to explode.

“By ignoring a summons for breakfast when it’s clear that all three of you were more than capable of attending you disrespected your host as well as the other Coalition guests. I had thought you were all adults and capable of being respectful towards Lotor despite our past differences, but I guess I thought wrong. Perhaps you are the children Lotor described.”

Lance felt like he’d been punched.

This…

This couldn’t be Shiro talking.

He blinked.

It was.

“Shiro, you can’t be fucking serious—”

“Enough!”

“No! This is—”

“Pidge—”

“Shut up and _listen_ —”

“You dare take that tone with—”

“Stop!”

Lance surprised them all by his own shout as Pidge and Shiro were but a few paces from each other, something dark on Shiro’s face and a sheen in Pidge’s eyes.

“Stop,” Lance repeated softer as every gaze turned to him. “Please. This…” he swallowed thickly, eyes darting from Shiro to Allura and then back to Shiro. “This is my fault. I’m sorry. I, I didn’t want to go to breakfast and Hunk and Pidge stayed with me—”

“Lance, stop,” Hunk tried to interject and Lance rolled right over him.

“—and I wasn’t feeling well and left the party and Hunk, Hunk came with me and we should have said something and I’m sorry it reflected poorly on Voltron, but, but please don’t yell at Pidge it’s not her fault, it’s mine.”

“That is not what happened,” Pidge said hotly as Lance hung his head after he spoke, the burst of bravery withering at Shiro’s still searing glare.

“So you’re lying now, Lance?” Shiro asked and Lance’s head jerked up even as his stomach bottomed out.

“Wh-what? No, n-no. That’s—”

Lance was alarmed to feel tears stinging at his eyes at the sheer _rage_ taking over Shiro’s face and directed at him.

“So then Pidge is lying?”

“N-no, she—”

“Answer me, Lance!”

“Hey!” Hunk stepped forward, voice raised at Shiro. “Stop yelling at him!”

Lance felt faint.

“Stand down, Hunk.”

“No! You need to get a grip, Shiro. You’re yelling at Pidge and Lance and—”

“ _I’m_ yelling?”

“Paladins, please,” Allua interjected, confusion and worry clear. “Let us all—”

“This doesn’t concern you,” Shiro snapped in Allura’s direction and she stopped short, eyes widening. “Stay out of it.”

“Number One that is _enough,”_ Coran’s voice was unnaturally sharp for him.

“Coran—”

“Enough!” Coran roared and it was so loud, so unusual, that Shiro fell silent and even took a step back from the advisor.

“Enough,” Coran repeated, softer. “Number One, I understand you are frustrated but yelling at your teammates is _not_ the way you solve this issue and quite frankly I expected better of you.”

Shiro’s eyes widened and the briefest flash of hurt and then horror crossed his face.

“Now,” Coran turned to the three youngest and his eyes were soft. “Is everyone all right?”

Pidge gave a jerk of her head and Hunk mumbled out a, “fine,” but Lance remained quiet.

“Lance?” Coran asked, tone gentler still. “Are you all right, lad?”

Lance trembled.

He didn’t know the answer to that.

He didn’t even know the question.

Was it about Shiro yelling? About the disrespect issue? If he was feeling well from the night before? About breakfast? Was it about… about _everything?_

This…

This wasn’t how he imagined talking about Lotor.

“Lance?” Coran was directly in front of him now and his hands were settling on Lance’s shoulders.

Lance felt one of the tears that had been hovering escape down his cheek.

A moment later he was being tugged forward into Coran’s warm embrace and he willingly went, hiding his face against the advisor’s shoulder and furiously trying to blink back more tears that were attempting to break free.

_Dios._

This was not how it was supposed to go.

How could he say anything now?

“Lance…” Shiro’s soft murmur, horrified and guilty, came from behind Coran. “Lance, I… I’m…I’m so sorry. I… I don’t know what… what came over me.”

Lance couldn’t say it was okay.

It wasn’t.

He just pressed his face more against Coran’s shirt as though he could just disappear if he tried hard enough.

How could he face them all now?

“I think,” Coran said quietly, “that we have more to discuss than just a missed breakfast and an early retirement. Princess, I suggest we all move to the lounge.”

“Yes,” and Allura, normally so confident, sounded shaken. “Yes, I agree. Shiro, with me.”

It was clear it was not a request and Shiro did not protest. Their footsteps sounded a moment later and only when they were clearly off the bridge did Lance lift his face free.

“There you are,” Coran murmured, jewel eyes glittering down and Lance felt tears spring anew. “You with me, lad?”

Not an ‘are you all right?’ because Coran knew the answer to that.

Lance managed a nod.

“Coran,” he whispered. “I… I don’t know if…”

If a discussion was a good idea.

He wasn’t ready to talk about it.

He didn’t think he’d ever be.

“I think,” Coran said, bringing a hand to cup Lance’s face and rub away one of the tear tracks, “that you are far braver than you give yourself credit for.”

Lance hiccuped on a sob.

He did not deserve those words.

And yet…

Yet something in him was warmed by them.

“Something happened,” Coran said without the mark of a question although he was looking at Lance as though for an answer.

Lance had spent so long telling himself that nothing had happened.

But now…

Now he knew better.

“Yes,” he choked out.

Coran inclined his head, something flickering over his face, something darker than the look he had given Shiro, but it was gone within the instant and only gentle eyes and a sad smile looked at Lance.

“Then we shall make it better,” Coran said, thumb lifting to rub at the other cheek now. “Together. If that is all right with you?”

Lance managed another nod.

He didn’t want to talk about it, not really.

But he had to.

And as poorly as this situation had started, with Coran’s intervening maybe now…

Maybe now it could turn out okay.

Coran had called him brave.

That…

That had to mean something.

“Good lad. Let us head off as well then, hm? Number Two, would you join me in a quick stop to the kitchen? I think a spot of tea is going to be needed.”

“Yeah, sure,” Hunk said and Lance could feel worried eyes on him.

“I’ll walk with you,” Pidge stepped up to Lance’s side and slipped a hand into his that Lance tried not to grip too desperately but he didn’t manage very well.

“ _Gracias,”_ he said quietly, “everyone.”

“No thanks needed, lad,” Coran gave his cheek one last tender rub and stepped back. “Let’s get a move on now.”

They all exited the bridge together but Hunk and Coran turned for the kitchen while Pidge and Lance made for the main common room lounge they used.

Their steps were slow.

“Thank you,” Lance said quietly. “And… and I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to—”

“Don’t apologize for Shiro,” Pidge cut him off. “He was completely out of line and owes all of us a better apology than that half-assed one he tried. And don’t apologize or try to make yourself the one at fault. You’re _not,_ Lance. You didn’t do anything wrong.”

“I feel like I did,” Lance admitted quietly.

Pidge just squeezed his hand.

When they entered the lounge Allura was sitting on the smaller couch and Shiro was pacing behind it, looking in their direction immediately, face still painted with guilt.

“Where are—?”

“Getting tea,” Pidge interrupted Allura, steering Lance to sit on the large couch and he took the corner spot, Pidge at his side. “They’ll be here in a few.”

Silence descended.

Lance didn’t feel any inclination to break it.

Allura apparently did though as she rose from her spot and crossed the room, seating herself on the ottoman poof almost directly in front of him.

“Lance,” she called softly.

He couldn’t look up at her.

Even with his head tilted down he still caught the glimmer of her necklace.

His stomach tightened.

He didn’t know how he was supposed to tell her.

She…

She _loved_ Lotor.

She was going to be so disappointed in him.

“Lance,” she repeated and he shook his head.

Allura let out a soft sigh and Lance winced.

Disappointing her already.

And then to his surprise a slender dark hand landed gently atop his knee.

“I apologize,” she said softly and Lance started.

What?

Allura was apologizing to _him?_

“I do not understand the situation but I can see that it has upset you greatly,” Allura continued. “And I am sorry if I in any way contributed to it, which I…” her voice lowered. “I fear I somehow have.”

At that Lance lifted his head up, a denial on his lips.

Allura reached forward and pressed a long finger against his lips with a quiet, “shh,” and Lance felt his cheeks heat against his will.

“My hope is that you know I am here to listen to whatever it is that is troubling you. We are friends, are we not? And friends are there for one another.”

Friends.

It wasn’t close to what Lance wanted them to be, not at all, but…

But it was enough right now.

He wondered though if she’d still say that once he spoke about Lotor.

Would they still be friends? Even teammates?

Would he still be a Paladin?

But saying nothing wasn’t an option anymore. Neither was ignoring the situation or trying to pretend it wasn’t really anything bad.

And he needed to trust Allura. Lotor was lies and deceit and Allura was truth and kindness. She would listen, just as she said.

He had to trust in that.

Allura pulled her finger from his lips but kept the one on his knee where it was and settled back on the ottoman.

“Thank you,” Lance said quietly after a pause, his lips still tingling from the contact. “I… um… thank you.”

Allura smiled at him and he felt his lips edging up to match it.

The silence continued but it wasn’t quite so heavy that time.

The arrival of Hunk, Coran and a tea tray broke it for the final time.

Hunk passed out the cups with quiet clinking before settling himself on the couch next to Pidge and Coran took Allura’s vacated spot on the other couch, Shiro coming to sit on the edge of it next to him.

“Now,” Coran said once everyone had a mug either in hand or easy reach. “I think—”

“Wait,” Shiro interrupted, but unlike before his voice was pitched quietly. “I need to say something first.”

Coran made an open gesture with his hand that Shiro had the floor.

“Lance,” Shiro said and his eyes locked on Lance who forced himself to meet them.

“Pidge,” Shiro continued and the small girl lifted her gaze coolly but met his as well.

“Hunk,” and Hunk stared resolutely at him, the same look he’d given Lotor on the dance floor.

“I owe all of you an apology,” Shiro said, steady gaze flicking between each of them. “What I said and did was out of line. I’m… I’m not sure why I…” he trailed off, shaking his head. “The point is, I was wrong. I did not let you explain yourselves and in any case you should not have to. It… it was just breakfast, just a dance and I completely overreacted.” He bowed his head. “I’m so sorry.”

Lance licked suddenly dry lips. “It’s… it’s okay—”

“It was not okay,” Shiro caught Lance’s eye. “It wasn’t, Lance. Not at all.”

“It’s okay _now_ ,” Pidge said, emphasis clear. “Apology accepted here.”

“Me too,” Hunk said quietly. “But Shiro?” His voice hardened. “Don’t ever do that again.”

“Hunk,” Lance whispered but Shiro gave a solemn nod.

“I promise. And… and if I ever let my temper get away from me like that again I fully expect you to hold me accountable.”

Hunk nodded, hard expression softening, and settled back on the couch.

“I… I forgive you too,” Lance said as Shiro’s gaze swung back to him.

And the tight feeling that had taken up residence in his chest since Shiro started his lecture vanished as a soft smile was aimed at him.

“Thank you, Lance. I won’t break your trust again.”

Trust.

Always that word.

Lance hoped Shiro could keep that promise.

“And I apologize to both of you too,” Shiro looked between Allura and Coran. “I should not have snapped at you, Princess, nor you Coran. I’m sorry.”

“Apology accepted,” Allura inclined her head.

“I am glad to see you back to yourself, Number One,” Coran said, patting the other man’s knee. “Apology accepted as well. And now,” he turned his attention to Lance. “I think it is time we all listened to one another once more. I think there are some things that need to be said.”

Lance sensed more than saw every head angle in his direction.

He let out a heavy breath, tightening his hand around Pidge’s who squeezed back reassuringly.

This was it.

The moment he had been hiding, deflecting and dreading.

But as he looked around the room and saw only kindness and concern reflected back at him he felt steadier.

He could do this.

And they would listen.

He took another breath.

And he began to speak.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mmm, yes. How about that Kuron!Shiro, eh? I’m pretty proud of him and loved getting to toss in a canon line and then bring him back to the softer version, mmm. And Coran the gorgeous man continues to be perfect and I love him so much. Throw in protective-angry Hunk (♥) and spitfire-protective Pidge and then some confused but empathetic Allura and we are a go for engines full throttle into this delicious angsty discussion. Let’s do this :D
> 
> If you’re enjoying my works and want to keep up with me do be sure to give me a follow here or on [my tumblr, icypantherwrites](http://icypantherwrites.tumblr.com)! (I’m aiming for my 2k follower kiriban event even though we’re still about 250 off jaja)
> 
> And as always, thank you to the lovely commenters; you guys know just how to make a girl’s day. Be sure to share a nice comment below (favorite part, scene, line, dialogue, feeling, etc. I love to hear specific details!) before you go and give the author some love ♥ And perhaps she’ll give you another quick update…


	6. Six

“Something… something happened,” Lance said slowly. “With Lotor.”

No one said anything although Allura tipped her head very slightly, confusion clear.

Lance wasn’t entirely sure where to go now.

Blurting it out to Hunk was entirely different than a planned speech, _especially_ to Allura.

He could feel his cheeks heating even thinking about what he had to say.

Lotor had touched him? Licked him? Kissed him? Said things that sounded sincere but most definitely were not?

Made him feel small and ashamed and not worthy of the title of Paladin?

He…

He couldn’t do this.

“Lance,” Hunk said gently from the other side of the couch. “You’ve got this, _hermano,”_ and Pidge gave his hand a squeeze of support.

Lance wished Hunk would speak for him, but he knew he couldn’t. Hunk had told him that _he_ had to tell Allura and Shiro and he was right.

Just…

_Dios._

“He…” Lance’s eyes flicked down to his lap where Allura still had a slender hand atop his knee. “He…” he licked dry lips. “He…”

No one was interrupting him even though he was stuttering and stalling even worse than on the bridge.

“He says things,” Lance finally said. “And… and does things.”

Now how did he explain what those things were? How much seemingly innocent words were laced with such poison...

_“You do not appreciate the compliment?”_

_“You are special to me, Lance.”_

_“Do make sure to take care of yourself. You know how much I worry.”_

 How gentle touches held such threat…

_Hands caressing his stomach…_

_Searing kisses placed on his hand, his cheek…_

_Cold metal biting into his neck as a collar was delicately latched..._

“I do not follow,” Allura said into the pervading silence and Lance realized he’d let it stretch for too long. He colored again and ducked his head.

_Dios._

He couldn’t do this.

Pidge squeezed his hand again, her fingers hot in his now sweaty palm.

There was nothing to be but blunt.

He had to do this.

“He says things,” Lance repeated. “That… that sound like, like compliments, but… but they aren’t. He… he teases me,” his head ducked somehow lower and the word came out a whisper, “and… and tells me I’m not… I’m not the Red Paladin. Not really.”

No one said anything.

He was afraid to see what Allura’s expression looked like.

He kept going, each word like barbed wire up his throat.

“He… he touches me even when I tell him to stop. All over. My face. And, and,” Lance made a weak gesture with his free hand towards his torso. “And he k—” he broke off on the word. “He k—” Lance swallowed and Pidge squeezed his hand to the point it was painful.

“He kisses me,” Lance breathed out. “H-here,” and a hand brushed against his cheek. “I, I tell him to stop but he won’t. He… he calls it a game. And he… he calls me a toy.” Lance swallowed again. “ _His_ toy.”

“I am confused,” Allura said, tone neutrally even, her diplomatic voice. It made Lance wince. “That does not sound like Lotor.”

Just what he was afraid of.

She didn’t believe him.

“You were dancing with him at the party,” Shiro added in, sounding confused. “And he speaks highly of your skills, particularly your sharpshooting. He said it’s,” and Shiro’s voice changed inflection slightly, “something truly special.”

Lance shivered.

No.

This…

This was exactly what he’d—

“But I said I would listen and listen I shall,” Allura said, interrupting his growing sickening thoughts. “Lance,” her hand patted his knee, “please, can you explain this further to me? So I… so I might better understand? Lotor is… an ally, a friend. A…” she broke off. “But so too are you and you are very dear to me. Please, speak.”

Lance didn’t know what to say.

There was too much, too little.

He…

He didn’t want her to be ashamed of him.

He was ashamed already.

“Why don’t you start at the beginning?” Coran suggested gently. “We are all here to listen, my boy.”

Lance hadn’t wanted to tell them anything.

He told them everything.

He started from the literal beginning of his and Lotor’s meeting in the laundry room on Lotor’s first day out of his prison and his apparent hurt feelings that Lance did not trust him as Allura and Shiro did. He said how Lotor had called him a fill-in Red Paladin, that he wasn’t worthy of the title, had made a mockery of it and then of Lance’s name.

He went from there to when Lotor invaded his room, began messing with his lotions and skincare products, and had refused to leave when Lance had asked and then... then _grabbed_ Lance when he tried to physically remove him.

Lotor had, Lance had flushed, licked his hand to taste the lotion and following that had begun to make comments about trust again and desiring Lance’s and the entire thing had made Lance feel… feel uncomfortable, he’d rolled his shoulders.

The next morning he’d woken up and found out that Lotor had delivered his slippers… and watched him sleep. He didn’t know how long, but long enough. He’d left him a note, although when Shiro had quietly interjected to ask where it was Lance had shaken his head and whispered, “gone,” and that had been one of the stupidest things he’d ever done.

Out of sight out of mind had not worked at all.

They’d had the tag team training later and Lotor had… had kept touching him, brushing hands over his arms and chest and pressing up too close. Whenever Lance had told him to stop it had only encouraged it further.

Then, and Lance wasn’t sure how his face hadn’t caught fire, Lotor had pinned him up against the course during the sniping portion and he’d… he’d _caressed_ him, stomach and hip, and had whispered what Lotor told him were compliments about his sharpshooting in his ear and… Lance shuddered.

Allura’s voice was back to that diplomatic tone that revealed nothing as she asked Coran if they had footage or if he had seen anything and Coran, in complete opposite, had sounded a mixture of angry and upset and said the footage would have been erased by now and no, he had not as he had been focusing during that run on watching Shiro and Hunk’s run as he’d had concerns Hunk might be pushing himself too hard and was monitoring his vitals.

The next day was the day they found out about the trade for Commander Holt. Lance had been in his room before the mission commenced and Lotor… Lotor had invited himself in again and refused to leave, saying he was there to say goodbye. He’d cornered Lance against his bed and then… then pinned him down on it.

Pidge’s grip, already tight, had become a vice at that and Hunk made a choked sounding inhale while Coran muttered something Lance didn’t catch but it sounded more than angry.

Lotor had thanked him, Lance whispered, for amusing him during his stay and that had been the first time he’d called Lance his toy.

He’d… he’d touched his face and then… then kissed him.

Not on the lips, Lance had quickly said, on his cheek, but…

But still…

It had been a game to Lotor, a way to amuse himself. He’d said so.

And Lance…

Lance hadn’t said anything because…

Because he thought if he did then…

Then they would be ashamed of him. That… that he’d let Lotor do that, that he hadn’t managed to stop Lotor’s advances and touches himself.

“Lance,” Shiro murmured quietly. “Buddy, that…that isn’t true.”

“I thought it was,” Lance whispered. “And I… I… I just, just wanted to be a good Paladin.”

“You are,” Shiro said, but Lance shook his head.

He didn’t feel like one.

Not then, not now.

“There is still more to this,” Coran said quietly as Lance rolled his shoulders in, unable still to look up and see Allura’s face.

He jerked his head.

There was no going back now.

Lotor returned to the castle following the fight with Zarkon and for those couple weeks leading up to and immediately after the Kral Zera Lance managed to almost avoid him entirely and Lotor had been too busy with his new role as emperor to do or say anything outside of some barbed words that came across as compliments when in the presence of the others.

He thought it had been over and he could move on.

Then he’d gotten sick.

Lotor… Lotor _had_ cared for him, he had admitted. That was true. But…

But he’d…

He’d treated Lance like a toy, a doll. He’d dressed and undressed him to his own amusement and touched him even when it hadn’t been required. He made even necessary touches into something… something more, and Lance couldn’t quite say it but he heard Coran’s teeth grinding and knew, face flushing again, that it had come across.

Lance hadn’t been able to move much, the illness making his limbs heavy, and Lotor had taken full advantage of that, petting his hair and cheek and pressing kisses on his face even when Lance had pleaded with him to stop. Even when he was doing things to help — keeping him hydrated, fed, monitoring his temperature — he always turned it into a game, into charged comments and touches.

He’d told Lance multiple times that he was his toy, had refused to give Lance any sort of privacy. Lance couldn’t remember all of it — he had been that sick — but, but when the fever broke a few days later he… he had been grateful for Lotor’s care. He knew the other Galrans hadn’t been keen on helping him so he did know that Lotor had cared for him and… and he remembered Lotor actually comforting him in the worst of it.

He’d… he’d thought that maybe…

Maybe Lotor had changed.

He’d been wrong.

Lotor had been waiting for Lance to thank him, to earn Lance’s trust, only to throw it back that it was the game from before and that everything Lotor had done it had… it had been for Allura. Lotor, he, he loved Allura, Lance said softly. Lance had flicked his gaze up then but brought it immediately down as Allura’s eyes were hard and her lips a thin line.

Only Pidge’s hand holding tight to his own was what kept him going.

He’d still been weak, limbs completely unresponsive at that point, even though his head was clear.

And Lotor…

Lance flushed crimson.

Lotor had choked him. He’d climbed on top of him and half-stripped him and kissed and licked his face all the while asking Lance if he could do anything to stop him, if he could do _anything_ at all.

The answer had been a resounding no.

Lance was the entertainment and good for nothing else, he whispered, hearing Lotor’s words as vividly as he if were hissing them in his ear. And Lotor knew Lance wouldn’t say anything because… because Allura and Shiro would never want a Paladin who let someone touch and handle them as Lance had let Lotor.

Shiro had made a strangled sounding noise but had not interrupted.

Lotor had decided to play another game then. Doctor and patient. He’d… he’d been undressing Lance, and Lance winced again, and repositioning him when Allura had called.

Her hand, somehow still on his knee after all this time, twitched.

Lotor always knew what to say, how to make any situation favor him. He’d spun the camera around to show Lance to Allura, knowing she would hear only the sincerity of his words, and…

And she had.

Allura’s hand twitched again.

Lance didn’t blame her, not at all. He understood. He just…

He knew he’d been crying at that point and she hadn’t seen it, not really.

Not for what it actually was.

Again, he didn’t blame her. Not at all.

He was the one who hadn’t said anything.

It was his fault.

All of this had been—

“No,” Shiro cut into his words. “No. God, Lance. No. This… I… Lotor… Lotor really…”

He sounded shocked.

He…

He sounded like he believed Lance.

Something released in his chest.

And then there had been the gala.

Lance didn’t need to say much about it, they had all been there, but… but he’d realized there, on that very public stage how… how _important_ Lotor and the Galra were to the alliance.

To the universe.

And he couldn’t say anything.

He could _never_ say anything.

He didn’t want to be the cause of the alliance splitting apart, of the universe diving back into a multi-faceted war.

But… but Lotor hadn’t stopped with his games. First there had been the collar, a near suffocating necklace with the connotations of ownership, evidenced further by the purple stone feature and the way Lotor had tightened it on him, placing it without asking for permission.  Then he’d been forced into dancing, unable to decline in front of the audience because doing so would raise questions and suspicions about their Galra ally, and Lotor had made comments as he’d kept a tight hold on him while they danced and continued to touch and caress him about coming to Lance’s room that evening to… to what, Lance didn’t know, but…

But he was…

Was _scared_ of what Lotor could do.

Of what he would let him.

“And you still weren’t going to say anything?” Shiro asked, his voice a gentle cadence that could not fully hide the undertone of anger.

Lance didn’t think it was directed at him.

“N-no,” Lance whispered. “I… I couldn’t. The, the alliance needs the Galra and…” his voice lowered. “I didn’t think… didn’t think you would believe me.”

And a varga ago when Shiro had been yelling and accusing him of lying and for all the world the buddy-buddy figure to Lotor he had been he would have believed that truth too. But now, Shiro’s eyes wide with horror and glinting with anger, told him a different story.

A different Shiro.

It made Lance dizzy.

“I’ve been a horrible team leader,” Shiro said in answer.

Lance’s head jerked up.

“The fact that you felt you could not come to me, that, that you thought I would judge you over Lotor’s actions… God. I’m sorry, Lance. I, I wish you’d have told me but I,” Shiro’s throat bobbed, “I understand why you didn’t.”

Lance was floored.

This was more than he’d thought possible.

But Allura…

She was still silent.

“I’m sorry,” Lance whispered to her although he couldn’t look at her, staring instead at her hand. “I… he… he really does love you.” He didn’t know why he was saying that.

Allura abruptly stood.

And then she lunged forward. Her arms wrapped flush about Lance’s back, her knees digging into the couch between his legs and all of her weight pressing him into the seat.

He didn’t feel cornered at all.

Lance sat stunned as her hair tickled against his arms and neck and her breath was warm on his ear where she had tucked her head up over his shoulder.

“I am sorry,” she whispered. “I am so, so sorry, Lance.”

“It’s—”

“It is my fault,” she interrupted him. “You reached out to me and I did not see it. You were hurt and scared and I did not see it. I _could_ not see it. I, I do not still understand entirely _why_ Lotor did… did _that,_ but I do not need to to understand it was wrong.”

“Allura…”

“And I am sorry that you felt you could not come to me given my… relationship with Lotor,” Allura continued. “I have failed you.”

“N-no. That’s—”

“That is the truth,” Allura said. “I do believe Lotor is true in his intentions to be our ally, to help bring the universe to peace, but this… this _game_ of his was unnecessary and _cruel_ and it has hurt someone incredibly dear to me and is therefore _unforgivable.”_

Lance moved from feeling stunned to faint.

This…

This was not at all what he thought was going to happen.

“Aren’t…” he licked his lips, “aren’t you… upset with me? Ah… ashamed? For… for letting Lotor—?”

“Absolutely not,” Allura near growled, the sensation thrumming through her chest and over his heart.

“But I—”

“Remove that thought from you head right now, my boy,” Coran said and there was a fire in his voice. “The only one who has shamed himself here is Lotor.”

“But,” Lance protested again, waiting for the axe still to fall.

“Lance,” Shiro spoke then and a warm hand descended on his shoulder through Allura’s loose hair. “You have _nothing_ to be ashamed of. Lotor took advantage of you and _he_ should have known better.”

Lance felt tears prick his eyes and he bowed his head to hide them against Allura’s shoulder as Shiro gave him a last squeeze and stepped back.

This…

This felt…

Surreal.

This couldn’t be actually happening.

Allura shifted then, pulling back.

“I am going to kiss you,” she told him and Lance’s eyes widened.

What?

_Dios, what?_

A __kiss?__ From  _ _Allura?__

She seemed to be waiting for permission and Lance found his head giving the barest inclination, heart threatening to beat out of his chest. She leaned forward then and pressed a kiss onto his forehead.

Lance blushed bright pink.

“A promise,” she told him and that was right, Alteans kissed hands or foreheads to make official promises between close friends and family, of course she wouldn't actually kiss-kiss him, and given the circumstances that was probably a good thing and although this kiss and had been chaste  _Allura just kissed him_ and  _Dios_ did that really just happen?

His heart was still hammering and the blush was not going away.

“A promise that no matter what happens I will _always_ be there for you, Lance. I will _always_ listen, even when the words are hard to hear. And I will _always_ believe you because I _trust you_ with every piece of my heart.”

Lance could only stare, his pulse pounding in his ears.

_Dios._

Allura…

She...

She trusted him. She promised him. 

With...

With every piece of  _her heart._

“And now,” she stood up and her expression morphed into something harder. “I have a call to make.”

Lance shot out a hand, wrapping it about Allura’s wrist as the heat of his blush faded away to be replaced with cold.

He couldn’t let her ruin the alliance.

Not over him.

“Allura—”

“Do not stop me,” she said. “I have words for Lotor and I will speak them. He may be an ally, and that I do still believe and pray remains true, but there is no excuse for his actions. Coran, please contact Kolivan and make him aware there may be some… tension upcoming and for his agents stationed in the Empire to be on alert. Shiro, would you do the same for our allies that are housing Galra troops? There is no need to go into details, but a general awareness should suffice.”

Coran gave a short bow and Shiro responded with a firm, “Yes, Princess.”

“Good. Lance,” her expression softened, “I invite you if you would like to be privy to my transmission call with Lotor. You do not have to accept although I would value your presence if you feel comfortable doing so.”

“I would like to be there,” Pidge raised a hand, eyes flashing with dark glee, and somehow Lance found a laugh bubbling out at that.

Did he want to see and hear Lotor again? Did he want to hear them talk about _him_?

He swallowed…

And nodded.

Yes.

He wanted — needed — this closure.

It was finally game over.

And this time…

This time Lotor would be the one who was going to lose.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This fic has been full of firsts update wise. First fic to update on weekends (both a Saturday and Sunday now). First fic to update in the overnight hours. First fic to update shorter than three days. And now let’s add two more. First fic to update in **less than two days** and first fic to update in the afternoon hours. All of these quick updates can be credited to the lovely commenters who really make me feel appreciated. Thank you. Thank you so so much.
> 
> We’ve got one final chapter to go for a final confrontation and take down :D But this chapter was all about the confession that has been almost sixty thousand words in coming. I hope you all enjoyed it ♥ As always, I love to hear your thoughts on the chapter. Please, feed me your favorite part, scene, dialogue, line, thought, feeling, etc. The author is hungry. Feed her.


	7. Seven

“Can—?” Lance inclined his head to the left where Pidge and Hunk sat after Allura’s announcement, his heart still racing from all that had just happened.

Allura had…

Shiro…

They’d _believed_ him and they didn’t blame him at all. They weren’t disappointed or ashamed.

And Allura…

She was going to talk to Lotor, _confront_ him.

He still couldn’t believe it.

The game was almost over.

Permanently.

“Of course,” Allura said. “If you would like to join us. But,” her gaze moved solely to Pidge, “I am the only one speaking, or Lance if he wishes. Understood?”

“Just here to watch an asshole burn.”

Allura’s nose wrinkled but she didn’t say anything and Shiro didn’t even make his tired-sounding reprimand of “language.”

The four of them proceeded to the bridge where Allura instructed them to remain out of sight of the feed.

Lance latched again onto Allura’s wrist as she stepped towards the display.

“You don’t have to do this,” he said quietly, unable to meet her eyes. “I… I know you… and him…” it was bitter to say aloud, but… but it was true. Allura did love Lotor, he’d seen it.

“Lance,” and his name was said almost sharply, “look at me.”

He tentatively raised his eyes, aware of Pidge and Hunk shuffling away to give them some privacy despite both of their nosy tendencies.

“I… I do love Lotor,” Allura said, and Lance’s heart twisted even though he’d known that, “but the person you have described to me is not Lotor I know.” She cleared her throat. “And if this man is Lotor as well….”

Lance’s breath caught. Was she saying…?

“I could never love someone who could be so cruel, so careless of another person’s feelings. I… I hope that Lotor might be able to redeem himself, but even then knowing what he has done, what he has said I do not know if even as I friend I could…” she trailed off. “I admit I do not know what the future holds.  But what I do know is that a future for myself and Lotor… It exists no longer.”

“I’m—”

“Do not apologize,” Allura’s eyes flashed and Lance ducked his head, the apology second nature on his lips. “I thank you, Lance.” Her voice softened. “I know how difficult it was to bring this matter to our attention. But it is through that bravery of yours I admire so that has prevented me from making a… a mistake and from hurting one I care for any further through my ignorance. So,” her hand lifted to brush his cheek, “thank you.”

Brave?

Thanks?

Lance felt a blush steal across his face.

Allura… Allura thought those things about his confession? Not ashamed even the slightest bit? Disappointed?

He still kept expecting for this to be some dream and he’d wake up in Lotor’s base and still trying to hide what had happened.

But this was no dream. This was no trick or game.

This was real.

“Now,” Allura smiled although it was not kind, “let us finish this.” Her expression softened. “Do you wish to speak to Lotor with me?”

Lance swore his heart stuttered.

He should, right? That was what a Paladin would do. That was being brave.

But…

But the thought of confronting Lotor, of having to talk to him, look at him, and have those piercing eyes on him...

Lance couldn’t repress the shudder.

“I,” he swallowed. “I…”

“No,” Allura inclined her head at his unsaid answer. “No, you do not.”

And _Dios_ no he didn’t but—

“Peace, Lance,” Allura murmured. “You have nothing to prove here.”

“Allura, I—”

“Do you wish to speak to him?” she asked again and Lance found himself giving the barest shake of his head.

“Then you will not,” she said, and her thumb rubbed gently along his pulse point and Lance realized with a start he hadn’t let go of her wrist. “And you will not think yourself any less for it for none of us do.”

It was both an order from a princess and a plea, a prayer, from a friend.

Lance gave a slow nod and felt the curdling in his stomach subside.

Allura smiled, gave his wrist a final small squeeze in both comfort and a prompt for him to release her, and then continued towards the main console.

Hunk settled a hand on Lance’s shoulder as he stepped back in line with them to the side of Allura so they could see her and the screen.

“You were right,” Lance whispered to him. “About… about everything.”

Hunk squeezed his shoulder and didn’t say anything more.

Lance felt stupid now, ashamed not because of what Lotor had done (although that still too) but that he hadn’t believed in his family. But…

But they didn’t want him thinking like that. No one else thought that.

He…

He shouldn’t either.

And although he knew that all of this went deeper still than what Lotor had done...

He straightened with pride and resolve and could feel Hunk’s beaming smile.

A few ticks later the transmission screen in front of Allura went from black to a burst of color and then…

Then Lotor was there, dressed still as he had been for breakfast in a near matching outfit, although the setting had changed and appeared to be some type of workshop, a table and supplies in the background.

“Allura!” Lotor sounded surprised even though his smile was warm. Genuine. He really did love her, Lance thought. “I had not expected to hear from you so soon.”

“A matter of great importance came up that I could not delay,” Allura responded.

Next to him Pidge leaned forward in anticipation.

Lance was torn between dread and relief but he’d resolved to see this through and so he held his ground.

“Oh?”

“Why did you assault Lance?”

Both Lotor and Lance’s eyes widened in tandem.

Allura did not pull her punches.

Lotor recovered in a blink, a frown of confusion pursing his lips. “I apologize, Allura, I do not know what you are referring to. I have made it clear on a number of occasions that I care very much about Lance—”

“No,” Allura interrupted him. “You do not. You may care about _me,_ Lotor, but you have shown that you do not care about the other members of my team.”

“I—”

“You have purposefully and cruelly harassed Lance,” Allura rolled right over Lotor, “physically assaulted him and invaded his privacy, ignored his wishes and words and you have _toyed,”_ she emphasized the word with a dark glare, “with both his emotions and his body and have _hurt_ him with your actions.”

“Allura,” Lotor’s voice was sharp. “This is a misunderstanding,” he said, spreading his hands wide. “I am not certain what prompted these accusations but you know me. I—”

“Do I?” Allura cut in. “Do I know you, Lotor? I… I thought I did, but—”

“And you believe a jealous, pining boy’s words over my own?”

Lance both flinched and felt his face heat and Allura’s lips parted ever so. Of course Lotor would have figured that out and to so… so _dismissively_ put it in front of Allura like that…

_Dios._

Hunk’s hand tightened on his shoulder.

“I see the way he looks at you,” Lotor continued. “This is nothing more than a ploy to drive a wedge between the two of us, Allura. He wants what he cannot have and if he cannot have it he believes no one should. Where is he even now?” Lotor’s lip curled. “Hiding like a _child?”_

Lance flinched and Hunk’s hold tightened.

“No,” Allura said after a pause and while the word was soft it was firm. “No, it is not. I trust Lance. I trust his words and his intentions and I did not hear any such deceit from him.”

Lance shuddered out a breath.

“And Lance is no child nor _coward_ ,” Allura spat the word, “as you have alluded to. He is brave. He is a Paladin of Voltron. He is a dear friend. And,” Allura raised her chin, “it is not his actions nor his person that bears hiding.”

And despite Lotor’s countenance on screen, eyes narrowed with a glimmer that made him feel sick, he felt warmed by Allura’s words and defense.

She…

She really thought that.

About _him._

“Allura—”

“And this is not about my relationship with Lance, it is about yours,” Allura carried on over Lotor. “And what I had thought was at least a level of friendship has been shown to be a mockery of one, a relationship built upon threats and lies and control. All I wish to hear from you now is why you have done so.”

Lotor was silent and for the first time that Lance could recall the smile, the dancing amusement, was gone from Lotor’s face.

But it had been replaced with a sincerity that made Lance’s toes curl.

Allura could see how false it was…

Right?

“I never meant to cause your Paladin any distress,” Lotor said quietly. “I truly do think Lance is a very special individual. I merely wanted to… show him that, to make sure he felt appreciated in such a talented team as Voltron.”

“Try again,” Allura said, voice cold.

“Slay,” Pidge whispered with awe.

Lance felt the same.

She…

She hadn’t bought it at all.

“Allura—”

“Try again,” she repeated. “I am still awaiting the truth, Lotor. Now tell me why.”

“You have clearly already made up your mind,” Lotor’s eyes narrowed ever so.

“And you are doing nothing to dissuade me from it,” Allura countered. “Explain, Lotor. This is your last chance to do so.”

“You would put one _boy_ over the fate of our alliance?” Lotor sneered.

“If our alliance hinges so precariously then I am not sure it is one at all,” Allura replied.

Lance’s breath hitched.

No.

This was… this was what he’d been afraid of.

He couldn’t…

He took a step forward but Hunk held tight to his shoulder with a barely there shake of his head.

Wait.

Lance swallowed and halted.

Allura’s knuckles were white on the console, unseen by Lotor, as she too clearly saw the gravity of the situation. “Lotor,” her voice was still even despite that, “do you or do you not wish to help the universe and be a part of the Coalition?”

“Of course I do,” and Lotor sounded _hurt_ as though anyone would suggest otherwise. Allura untensed ever so. “Of course, Allura. The universe is a better place united, which we can do. Together.”

“Then why have you sought to divide us?” Allura asked quietly. “Why did you hurt Lance?”

“I did not intend to,” Lotor said just as quietly.

Allura did not demand another answer but Lance could see the disappointment in her eyes.

She… she had thought Lotor would explain truthfully.

But he would not.

He never would.

And now she knew it.

“Then we are done here,” she said softly, finally.

And for the first time something like despair flashed across Lotor’s features.

“Allura—”

He broke off as Allura’s hand went to the back of her neck and a moment later she lifted free the necklace Lotor had bestowed upon her. “This is a gift I can no longer accept.”

“It is yours,” Lotor insisted. “Please. Keep it.”

She inclined her head, lowering the necklace.

She did not put it back on.

“Our next Coalition meeting is at the end of the movement,” Allura said. “We will see you then?”

We, not I.

Business, not pleasure.

Allies, not... not even friends.

“Yes,” Lotor said. He leaned forward. “Allura—”

“Until then,” Allura said and she shut off the transmission with a shaky breath.

She turned to them, face etched with concern and focused in on him. “Are you all right?”

Lance gave a short jerk of his head.

“Lance,” her eyes narrowed warningly.

“I, I’m fine,” he said.

He meant it.

He felt a little shaky himself, a little embarrassed too by what Lotor had revealed, but… but more than that he felt _warm._ Safe.

Allura had believed _him_ over Lotor. She had chosen their friendship over Lotor’s love.

She saw through Lotor’s lies and she would not be fooled again.

She must have seen something because her expression gentled. “Good. And everyone else?”

“You are such a badass,” Pidge told her and Allura let out a laugh and shook her head even as color stole across her cheeks. “Damn, Allura.”

“Thank you,” Hunk said quietly, sincerely, catching Allura’s gaze.

She inclined her head ever so and Lance felt himself coloring then for reasons he couldn’t fully explain.

“Now that that is taken care of… Lance, would you come with me?” she turned solely to him. “There is something I would like to give you.”

“Um, sure?” he said, feeling heat creep down his neck now.

A gift?

For him?

From her?

“We’ll meet you in the lounge after?” Hunk put forth.

Lance nodded.

He didn’t think he could say anything right now without it coming out as an unintelligible. He felt completely tongue tied.

“This way,” Allura placed a hand on his wrist, giving it a gentle tug. And he couldn’t have stopped himself if he wanted to as Allura led him from the bridge.

“You are truly all right?” she asked him as they walked.

“Yeah,” he managed. “I, um, Allura… What, what Lotor said about… about me and, and y-you, um…”

He was pretty sure his cheeks were on fire and he was pointedly looking at his feet and not Allura’s hand still snug about his wrist and most definitely not her face.

Nope.

“You are very dear to me, Lance,” Allura murmured. “And I stand by what I said before. I… I trust you with every piece of my heart.”

Lance wasn’t entirely sure what that meant now, in this context, and Allura didn’t seem inclined to elaborate any more but…

But…

He felt warm.

He felt hope.

“We are here,” Allura announced and Lance looked up from their feet.

They were in front of Allura’s room.

He’d only ever seen the door, an ornate gilded thing, from the outside one time before as he’d been chasing Platt down the hallway and demanding his pilfered slipper be returned to him, and upon realizing where Platt was going he’d aboutfaced and enlisted Coran’s help to retrieve it later.

It had never been expressively forbidden but one didn’t just go up and knock on a princess’ bedroom door.

And now Allura was bringing him inside.

He stood right by the doorframe as she released his arm and made her way towards a large vanity. “Lance, come here,” she called, opening up a drawer.

He hesitantly made his way over, feet sinking into the soft carpeting.

She pulled out an ornate box from the drawer and it was heavier than it looked as it _thumped_ loudly when she put it atop the dresser. A click of a latch later and she was opening it, revealing jewelry.

Lance would admit to being confused.

It only grew as Allura, holding Lotor’s necklace in her other hand, did not deposit it in the clearly made jewelry box but instead dropped it into the bottom of the drawer without any care despite the fact it was clearly a valuable piece and she had been treasuring it not even an hour before.

He was reminded of his own discarding of Lotor’s gift.

Something warm and fluttery filled his chest.

“Just a tick,” she muttered, opening up a tray and then another, all filled to the brim. She bypassed them all until she reached the very bottom compartment and then lifted out _another_ jewelry box, although it was small, only about the size of her hands together.

“You, um, have a lot of jewelry,” Lance said to break the silence as Allura set the small box reverently down.

“I do,” she said, “as a princess should. But in here,” she lifted the lid to the small box, “are the pieces I truly treasure.”

There were four.

A circlet in gold, a pair of teardrop earrings in a pale green with silver filigree, a necklace of gold with teal and pink stones that glowed, and another necklace on a thicker gold chain with a red pendant stone that contained yellow and orange accents in a wave-like pattern.

It was that one that Allura lifted up, the chain draping over her fingers.

“This was my father’s,” she said quietly and Lance started.

King Alfor’s?

“I wish for you to have it.”

What?

“What?” he croaked it aloud. “Allura, no, no, that’s… that’s too much, that’s _yours,_ I—”

“I wish for you to have it,” she repeated, turning to face him. “If you would so accept it.”

Lance licked his lips. “Why?”

And _Dios_ that was so _rude_ but Allura smiled without taking any offense.

“Because I want to,” she said simply. “Because,” and a hint of pink stole over her features that only made Lance’s darken in response, “you are important to me, Lance, and you deserve to have a gift given with sincerity rather than… than mockery. I know it cannot make up for all that Lotor has done, for my failure to see what was happening right beneath me, but…”

“Allura, no,” Lance whispered. “That wasn’t your fault.”

“And yet it is because of me that you suffered so,” Allura said quietly.

“Allura—”

“It is because of my relationship with Lotor that you felt you could not come to me,” she said softly. “Because I did not, could not, see what was happening right in front of me even when you reached out. I was blinded to Lotor’s actions and fell prey to his words. I…” she swallowed. “I know that my actions may not have directly hurt you the way Lotor’s have done, but my inaction did and for that I am truly sorry. I can only promise you now that I am here and I will not tolerate myself or others directly or indirectly causing harm to you again.”

Lance didn’t quite know what to say to that, the earlier warmth settling in his stomach in the face of Allura’s promise and passion.

She…

She really…

Allura’s gaze flicked back to the gem as color stole across her face. “This is a fire stone,” she said into the comfortable silence. “It is created after thousands of deca-phoebs of pressure upon a formerly insignificant piece of stone that was chosen to have a greater purpose. It endured great hardship to become the beautiful gem it is now; first from the force inside the volcano as it was molded and then the dangerous waves and crashing rocks and surf to eventually  be cooled and shaped in the gentle waters that give it the flaming wave pattern imbued at its core.”

She looked up then and jewel eyes met ocean. “I think it is a beyond fitting piece for you, Lance, for the Blue Paladin turned Red and one that deserves such a role without any reserve. Please… will you accept it from me?”

“I…” Lance swallowed thickly as his eyes went from Allura to the stone and then back to Allura. “I, I would be honored to.”

“Turn, please,” Allura instructed kindly and Lance did so without hesitation, coming face to face with the mirror on the vanity. Allura stepped behind him, her fingers brushing against his neck with a heat so different from Lotor’s, and Lance watched as she fitted the clasp on the chain, the stone bright against tanned skin and flickering with an inner fire.

Lotor’s necklace had been constricting, choking, and he hadn’t been able to breathe.

This one…

This one was like a breath of air and life restored.

“There,” Allura murmured and she caught his eyes in the mirror. “It is a perfect fit.”

The words did not echo with Lotor’s mockery.

Now he just heard Allura, felt her gentle touch.

“ _Gracias,”_ Lance whispered. “I’ll… I’ll treasure it always.”

Lance turned then and carefully lifted one of Allura’s hands in his own, knowing he was blushing but he…

He wanted to do this.

He brought her hand up and pressed a kiss to the top of it, heard Allura’s breath hitch.

“A promise,” he said softly. “That… that no matter what I’ll always trust you with… with every piece of my heart.”

His heart that was thumping wildly but this time for all the right reasons.

“You do me the true honor,” Allura smiled. “Thank you, Lance. For trusting in me.”

Lance met her smile.

Trust.

But this time…

This time he trusted in it.

And he could finally breathe again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And there be the end to this series and one that Lance absolutely deserved ♥ Thank you all for joining me on it and especially for your enthusiasm and support for this particular installment. It truly means a lot.
> 
> I’d love to hear your final thoughts so please, drop a comment below. Thank you so much.
> 
> (Like my works? Keep up with me on my [tumblr, icypantherwrites](http://icypantherwrites.tumblr.com/))


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